Firestarter
by badculture
Summary: Aang is just an average, ordinary main character in a high school drama, until he meets someone who can create flames with the power of his mind. Modern day AU with scifi elements. Stage 15: Zuko moves in. Shenanigans ensue.
1. Prologue

_Edited: Jan 15 '09_

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Avatar the Last Airbender characters are property of Nickelodeon.**

**Zuko**

July 19th, 1998

Dr. Long Feng stood in the centre of a small, sparsely furnished room, waiting to receive his charge. He wanted to sit, but the room contained only one chair, barely large enough to accommodate a child. Even if it had been large enough, Long Feng would not have used it. With cloth restraints attached to both its arms and legs, it seemed unwelcoming even to him.

The doctor considered leaning on the low, stainless steel table in the centre of the room, but dismissed the idea. The surface was covered by a metal tray, heavily laden with wood chips, and Long Feng was loath to disturb it. Besides, there was a chance that the observation staff was waiting in the room next door, watching him through the one-way glass that covered the leftmost wall. They would most likely find it more professional if her were to remain standing.

The door opened, and a young boy with pale skin and yellow eyes entered the room. The child was seven years old, but he was small for his age; too short and too thin. Three grown men, all dressed immaculately in business suits, filed into the room behind him. Without looking at them, the child crossed the room to the chair and sat down cross-legged in the seat, tucking his feet underneath him.

Watching as one of the other men wordlessly lifted the boy up from the seat by his armpits, Long Feng remembered the term that one of his co-workers had used to describe this sort of behaviour: passive resistance. The boy didn't struggle, but he was limp and unhelpful as the second man took hold of his legs and pulled them out from underneath him. Once the child was seated properly, with his feet on the floor, the second man proceeded to strap the boy's ankles to the base of the chair with fire-proof restraints. They left his hands and arms free.

Once the child's legs were secure, they all left the way they had come, closing the door behind them and sealing the doctor and the boy inside.

"Zuko-"

"I want to see my dad." The boy said – for what must have been the thousandth time. It had been, without fail, the first thing out of his mouth each time he and the doctor encountered each other for the past month, and he repeated it at every given opportunity, as if it were a mantra.

"I think you're forgetting which one of us is in charge here." The scientist said irritably.

"You're not the boss of me." Zuko shot back, petulantly.

Long Fang and the boy regarded each other with absolute contempt, their empty words hanging in the air between them. Even after almost a month of enduring such childish behaviour, Long Feng still did not know how to counter it. He was a scientist, not a psychologist, and the psychologists they had on staff had proven useless so far.

"I'm not the one shackled to a chair." Long Feng said, in what he considered a reasonable tone.

Zuko just stuck out his tongue in response.

Long Feng rubbed his eyes, already feeling tired and frustrated. The sister hadn't given him any trouble at all, so why was this one being so difficult?

"You know," he said, using the friendliest tone he could manage, "I gave your sister a Playstation yesterday, for being a good girl. Wouldn't you like a Playstation?"

Zuko scowled, staring down at his sneakers in silence. The soles were still white and remarkably clean, much like the rest of the facility. They had never been worn outdoors.

Suppressing a deep sigh, Long Feng did the same thing that he had done once a day, everyday, since Zuko had been brought to the facility. He pointed at the tray of woodchips on the table and instructed the boy to light it on fire.

Usually Zuko would refuse, or pretend that he didn't know what he was being asked to do, or simply wait in silence until he was left alone with a degree of patience that was entirely unnatural in a boy his age. Today he looked down at the tray uncertainly, then back at Long Feng.

"I guess I could do that," he said.

The simple response took the doctor off-guard. He cast a quick glance to his left, at his own reflection, wondering what the observers made of this new behaviour. He could imagine them eagerly leaning forward in their chairs, believing that they had finally made a breakthrough. The doctor returned his gaze to the boy in the chair, regarding him suspiciously. After all this time, did he dare hope?

After a long pause Zuko said, "Can I have a match?"

"Don't start with me, young man!" Long Feng barked back irritably.

The man's shouting had lost its effect on the child weeks ago, and one look at Zuko's impish grin told Long Feng that the child was unimpressed. The urge to slap that superior expression off of his face came upon the doctor like a fever.

Instead of acting on his instincts, Long Feng kept his fists balled up in the pockets of his white coat, took a deep breath, and reminded himself of the progress they had made with the boy's sister. Azula's regular displays of electrokinesis had gone a long way towards convincing the sceptics involved with the project that the children's abilities were real, so he wouldn't have to put up with this for much longer. Another few weeks of this and the psychologists would finally break down, drop their silly humanistic charade and recommend a more direct method of securing the boy's cooperation. Until then, he had to stay professional.

"So," Zuko started in a conversational tone, "when can I see my dad?"

"You can't see him now."

"Why not?"

"Make a fire, Zuko." Long Feng's voice was firm and authoritative, but he knew it didn't matter. Zuko wasn't going to do what he asked him to. He was just going through the motions until he had permission to change tactics.

"Why won't you let me see my dad?"

It was starting. The routine that had been slowly surely wearing away at Long Feng's nerves for weeks now. The doctor imagined himself knocking the wind out of Zuko's lungs in the midst of one of his ridiculous demands. The thought made him conscious of his hands, slick with perspiration, still clenched inside his pockets.

"Because. Do what I asked you to."

"But I want to see my dad."

Long Feng did not respond, and removed one hand from his coat to rub at his temples. God, but Zuko knew how to give him a headache.

"I want to see my dad."

The boy's voice was picking up volume and becoming more insistent. Long Feng knew that the boy didn't really expect to be reunited with his father and that the entire purpose of this production was to wear at the doctor's nerves, but that didn't stop it from working.

"I want to see my dad!"

Pressing his fingers against the bridge of his nose, Long Feng reached the conclusion that his headache was rapidly escalating into a full-scale migraine.

"Hey!" Zuko slammed his hands into the table, knocking the tray of woodchips off the table and scattering its contents across the floor. "I'm talking to you, old man! I SAID I WANT TO SEE MY DAD!"

"Would you just-

"I WANT TO SEE MY DAD! I WANT-

If the child got any louder, Long Feng was certain that his ears would start bleeding. He could feel the last, tattered remains of his restraint finally giving way, bent under the weight of the frustration that had been building up for weeks.

"Zuko. Stop it."

"TO SEE MY DAD I WANT-

"I'm warning you, you little shit!"

Dimly Long Fang heard the door opening behind him.

"MY DAD! I WANT MY DAD I WANT MY DAD I WANT-

"BE QUIET!"

"Doctor, I think that's enough for today,"

"I SAID SHUT UP!"

"DAD! I WANT DAD! I WANT DAD! I W-

"Doctor! That's enough!"

"DAD! I-

"YOUR FATHER IS DEAD!"

And just like that, the noise stopped.

The kid looked like he'd just been kicked in the stomach. For one brief moment, Long Feng felt more satisfaction than he had in almost a month. And then he noticed the hand on his shoulder, and he turned his head and saw, for the first time, the assistant who had been trying to get his attention standing behind him with her mouth hanging open. She looked almost as surprised as the child did.

He'd been warned not to let the boy know what had become of his father, as it was sure to make the boy even less willing to use his ability. He was going to be written up at least, maybe fired. If he hadn't had such success with Azula, it was quite possible that he would have been murdered. A man of Long Feng's profession could not afford to make mistakes.

"Liar!" said Zuko, finding his voice. "You're lying!"

Dr. Long Feng considered taking back his words, but it was useless. He knew the words were out and the damage was irreversible. The last thing he felt like doing was reassuring the insufferable little brat that his last great hope was still alive. Instead, he turned his back on the boy and left the room before he could lose his temper again.

Zuko shot to his feet, but his ankles were strapped to the chair and the chair was bolted securely to the floor.

"If I burn something it'll be you!" he yelled at the open doorway. "I HATE YOU! I SHOULD KILL YOU!"

The boy had threatened to burn him before, but he'd never gone through with it. The doctor was unperturbed. Long Feng had concluded long ago that the reason they weren't making progress with him was because Zuko was gutless, far too afraid of his own abilities to be a threat to anyone.


	2. Stage 1

_AN: It's a modern AU fic. A highschool fic, of all things. _

_I was reading the novel, __Firestarter,__ by Stephen King, and I noticed a bunch of similarities between the book and the show, Avatar. It might be weird comparing Zuko to an 8 year old girl, but I couldn't help but draw a lot of parallels between his character and Charlie McGee. I mean, 'Charlie Alone'? Is that a coincidence? _

_I wouldn't call this a crossover, but credit must go where credit is due, and Stephen King is where I got my inspiration for the backstory of this fic. __This is, in part, an experiment to see if I can spin-off of the book, the show, and the standard modern day AU fic and make something that stands out on its own. _

_I'd love-love-love any feedback you can give me. _

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Avatar the Last Airbender characters are property of Nickelodeon.**

**Aang**

Aang lived in a small town called Omashu, and in the fall he was going to start seventh grade at the public school there. The size of the school was proportionate to the size of the town in which it was located, which is to say that it was rather small, despite the fact that both elementary and high school students attended it.

Omashu had been christened by English settlers, who had learned a word from Native Americans and had decided to use it as the name of their town, but had completely mangled and mispronounced it until it had become completely unrecognizable. The name stuck. It wouldn't be fair to say that Omashu was the kind of town that didn't take kindly to change, but it certainly seemed to resist it. Aang had been living in Omashu for about a year since he had entered into voluntary foster care, and he was still considered the 'new boy' by most of the other kids who knew him. It was that kind of town. The sort of town where everybody knew everybody, and news travelled quickly.

That was why, a full two weeks before the onset of the new school year, everyone in town knew that they should expect to see another new face in the fall term.

The rumour could be traced back to Mrs. Beifong, the school secretary. She had been the first person to speak with the newcomer in person, when he had dropped by the school to register for the fall semester. Aang was one of the first to hear the story, after having the misfortune of being stuck behind Mrs. Beifong in line to pay for groceries at the local supermarket.

"I think he was a Goth," Mrs. Beifong told the cashier, with no small amount of distaste. (She had reached this conclusion based on the evidence that he had been wearing a black t-shirt and a pyramid belt when he had registered. Mrs. Beifong wasn't entirely clear on what being a Goth entailed, but she did know that it involved wearing dark clothing and having silly haircuts.) "I don't think they should be allowed into public schools." she continued, rooting through her wallet for change. It wasn't clear if she was referring to Goths or teenage boys in general. "I don't think that's very safe. My little girl goes there! It's not right anyway, putting the elementary students and the high schoolers together like that. Think of all the trouble the older ones could get the younger ones into!"

The woman behind the cash register was a very good listener, and she head and made an appropriate noise of agreement after Mrs. Beifong's statement.

"I'm willing to bet he's some kind of problem child." She went on avidly. "The transcripts didn't say anything specific, but he's changed schools at least six times, and he was home-schooled on and off through most of elementary. That's just not _normal._ And… well, I hate to say anything, but the poor boy's _face_!"

* * *

It was early morning and Aang was on his way to his first class of the year when he spotted the new boy for the first time. He recognized him immediately. The newcomer was easy to distinguish, not simply because he was unfamiliar, but because he was marked by a horrible scar that extended from the corner of his eye all across the left side of his face. He looked to be in his mid-teens, pale, with dark hair and yellow eyes. At first Aang thought that the other boy was probably wearing colour contacts, but then when he considered the fact that the eye with the scar seemed to be half sealed shut, he had to admit that it wasn't likely.

The stranger's unusual facial features seemed to contrast the plain clothing that he wore, a pair of faded jeans and a hooded red shirt, both of which looked like they had seen better days. He was obviously lost, because he was in the school's junior hallway. Being the well-meaning soul that he was, Aang decided that he should intervene on the older student's behalf.

"Hi," he said, approaching the new boy, "You must be Lee."

The stranger's one good eyebrow rose at Aang's statement.

"Does everyone here already know my name?" he asked humourlessly.

Up close, Lee's face really was just as awful as Mrs. Beifong's description of it, but Aang kept his smile firmly in place when the newcomer looked him in the eye. He had resolved not to show any disgust or surprise beforehand, no matter how bad it was.

"Pretty much." Aang told him honestly, "It was the same when I came last year. People don't move here that often."

"I guess this is kind of a small town… and I don't really blend in…"

"I'll say. You look totally lost." Aang neatly glossed over the obvious meaning of the other boy's statement. He tried to ignore the way that Lee's hand began to rise towards his face before it snapped back down to his side.

"I'm Aang." The twelve-year old stuck out his hand in a friendly manner, but Lee swiftly recoiled from the contact, tucking his own hands into his pockets and then ignoring the gesture and turning his eyes away to glance around the hallway, as if embarrassed. Aang let his hand drop, wondering if he had done something offensive.

"Um," Aang faltered for a moment, but then said, "do you need any help finding your classes?"

"No thanks," Lee answered, "I think I'll do okay. I'm going to look around the school a bit anyway, you know, so I can get to know the place."

"Oh, okay," Aang kept smiling, trying to hide his slight disappointment. Lee gave him a wide girth as he went past.

Before he had any time to brood on the encounter, he was startled to hear a laughing voice behind him.

"You got burned! He probably just didn't want to be seen with a seventh-grader. I know I wouldn't want a squirt like you hanging around me on my first day."

Even though she was teasing him, Aang brightened at the sound of his friend's voice.

"Hi Toph- whoa! Nice glasses." he shot back. Toph was wearing an enormous pair of black wrap-around sunglasses that reminded Aang of the protective goggles that he sometimes had to use in the school science lab.

"Haw haw." Toph was usually a good sport, but this time she was clearly less than amused. "My parents are making me wear them."

Aang had never known his friend to do anything that the Beifongs told her to do when they weren't actually around, so he asked, "Why don't you take them off?"

"I would, but my eyes are still kind of sensitive. I got another surgery a while ago."

"Should you really be at school?"

Toph's pale blue eyes were hidden behind her dark glasses, but Aang could tell by the downward curve of her mouth that she was shooting him a withering look.

"Shut up. You sound like my parents."

Aang just grinned. He had learned not to take Toph's attitude too seriously. What she lacked in tact, she had made up for with the unshakeable friendship she had given him over the year that they'd known each other.

Aang fell in with the other children as the students of Omashu all found their classrooms and took their usual seats, with the same classmates they'd had for years, and their teachers began to review the lessons they had taught them in previous years. As the day wore on, Aang felt himself settling into routine.

Elsewhere, another boy looked on as the daily sameness of life settled over the school like a blanket, and allowed it to envelop him.

* * *

Please review! I'd love to know what you think!


	3. Stage 2

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Avatar the Last Airbender characters are property of Nickelodeon.**

**Aang**

Time and necessity had made Aang an expert at maintaining a positive attitude, but sometimes he still caught himself moping around the house, or checking the mail three times in one day, or waiting by the phone. A year had passed since Aang had entered into voluntary foster care. It seemed a particularly long year to him, as he had been told to expect that he would be able to return to his old caretaker's apartment within a few months, once the elderly man had fully recovered from the accident.

But then Gyatso had gone missing.

The idea that his legal guardian had disappeared without sending word to Aang's foster family would have been enough to cause most children in Aang's position to develop severe abandonment issues, but Aang was not an ordinary boy, and circumstances behind Gyatso's departure were extremely peculiar. How did a patient with two broken legs and fractured wrist managed to vanish in the middle of the night without alerting any of the hospital staff?

The Arnaaluks had been shocked by the development, and found themselves at a loss as to how to comfort the young boy in their care. Each member of the family approached the problem differently. Kanna, (or Gran-gran, as everyone called her) had simply baked cookies, given him the news, and then promptly carried on as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Hakoda, Aang's foster father, had done his best to reassure Aang that he could stay as long as he needed to, and that everything would get sorted out soon. Aang had understood the unspoken sentiment behind the words, but didn't find much comfort in them. He could never feel entirely comfortable with Hakoda. The man simply struck Aang as a very authoritative sort of person, the type who should be called 'sir' and treated with a certain degree of respect. .

Hakoda's two children had completely opposite reactions to the news of Gyatso's disappearance. His daughter, Katara wanted to hug things out. Aang couldn't deny the fact that he enjoyed being the center of the pretty girl's attention, but he also found it confusing. The longer he stayed with the Arnaaluks, the more permanent the arrangement seemed, and while the idea of living with Katara was certainly appealing, he felt distinctly uncomfortable at the prospect of growing up in her house, like some sort of kid brother.

Sokka just made bad jokes.

"He probably broke out of the hospital to go get revenge on the jerk that put him there in the first place, like in that movie," he said one day, seemingly out of nowhere. Both boys were sitting on the couch in the living room, watching a television show.

Aang decided to go along with him. "What movie?"

Sokka merely wiggled his eyebrows at him, and then propped his feet up on the low coffee table in front of the couch. "Come on, Gyatso," he said, glaring at his socked feet with mock concentration, "_wiggle your big toe._"

Aang couldn't suppress a laugh at Sokka's pathetic attempt at impersonating his guardian. Sokka took this as encouragement and continued, describing in detail what Gyatso would look like dressed in a bright yellow jump suit cutting down hoards of enemies, until Katara overheard and stormed into the room.

"How can you be so insensitive?!" she demanded, yanking on his ponytail. Sokka yelped and pulled away, which only made things worse.

"It's okay, Katara, really," Aang insisted. Katara didn't seem to hear him.

If only there was a way to make her understand that he was telling the truth. Aang was no stranger to grief, and he wasn't feeling it. Gyatso was alive, and Gyatso loved him like a son. Aang couldn't explain how he knew these things with such certainty. He just did.

* * *

**IMPORTANT:**_**If anyone has any information about foster care, (particularly voluntary foster care) I would reeeeeally appreciate anything you can share with me. I'd like to be as accurate as possible about how the process works. **__I'd also like to know everyone's thoughts about how the story is progressing so far. Do you think I should include more interludes (flashbacks) like the prologue? Did you prefer reading the flashbacks or the school chapters? Do the characters sound authentic? Is there anything that you particularly liked or disliked about what you've read so far? Critique is love!_

_You don't need to write me a novel, just send me a blurb and give me an incentive to keep posting!_


	4. Stage 3

_A late notice for sev7n: Thanks for the detailed review! I found it very encouraging. I'm absolutely dying to answer your questions, but unfortunately I don't think I can answer it without spoiling some pretty significant upcoming plot points. For now I'll just say that I'm planning to take some huge liberties with the concept of bending. _

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Avatar the Last Airbender characters are property of Nickelodeon.**

**Aang**

Aang didn't think about Lee too much after the first week of classes ended. He still heard about him from time to time, but the school's general consensus was that apart from the curious burn scar on his face, the new kid was unremarkable, short spoken, and generally not worth talking about.

In fact, Aang didn't give the older student a second thought until three weeks into the fall term, when he came home on a Friday afternoon to find Lee sitting alone at the kitchen table.

The sight was enough to freeze in his tracks, unsure of how to react to the other boy's presence. Lee had not yet noticed his arrival. He seemed to have manoeuvred his chair out of its usual place into a patch of sunlight streaming in through the kitchen window, and sat leaning back, his eyes closed, a strangely serene expression on his face.

"Um, hi." Said Aang, at last.

Lee opened his eyes, and then blinked, taken by surprise. Aang couldn't really blame him for seeming confused; he doubted that anyone had informed Lee that the Arnaaluk family had a skinny, white foster child in their care.

But Lee did not actually voice any questions. "I'm just waiting for Sokka," he said. It was clear that he had no intention of elaborating on his statement.

During the uncomfortable silence which ensued, Aang recalled the reason that he had come into the kitchen in the first place. Attempting to ignore the stranger's eyes on him as he went about his business, he began searching through the cupboards for something to eat. About half way through the action, he realized that he ought to ask if Lee was hungry.

"No thanks." Was his reply. "I'm not staying long."

Before Aang could ask any further questions, his foster brother, Sokka breezed into the room with a text book in his hand.

"Found it!" declared the dark-skinned boy, tossing the book down onto the kitchen table. "There you go, sorry about this, I meant to bring it to school today."

Lee leaned down and lifted an old knapsack off the floor, undid the safety pin that held the broken zipper shut and slid the library book inside it.

"Don't worry about it. I was headed in this direction anyway." he said dismissively, rising from his chair and slinging the shabby-looking pack over his shoulder in a business-like fashion.

"You're leaving?" Aang asked.

Lee nodded wordlessly and headed out into the hallway.

"See you tomorrow at lunch then, right?" Sokka called after the retreating boy.

"Right." Lee's curt reply sounded from the hallway.

They heard the front door slam as he shut it behind him.

Sokka's demeanour changed immediately, and a sour looking expression crossed over his face. "You're welcome," he told the empty hallway dryly.

"What was that all about?" Aang asked.

"I'm stuck with him for a project." His foster brother told him woefully. "We're supposed to work together, but he always has to go to his job after school and he doesn't know a bunch of the material from last year… he said his family moves around a lot so he missed it at his old school. That's why I had to lend him my old book. He said he'd try to catch up on his break at work."

Aang felt sympathetic. Although he hadn't had many encounters with him, he couldn't imagine that working with Lee would be a pleasant experience.

"That sucks, but at least it seems like he's trying." Aang said, trying to point out the bright side of things. He held out an open bag of chips sympathetically. "Want snacks?"

It was the right thing to say. Sokka cheered up immediately.

Between the two of them they nearly managed to polish off the bag before they heard the sound of hurried footsteps in the hallway. Moments later, Katara entered the room, her long braid swinging wildly behind her as she hastened towards them.

"What was Lee doing here?!" she demanded, a frantic edge to her voice.

The boys exchanged looks of confusion. Katara had never expressed anything but neutrality on the subject of the new boy before.

Sokka told her the same story that he had told Aang. Even after hearing his explanation, Katara still looked mildly upset.

"Is something wrong?"

Katara frowned, seemed to consider Aang's words for a moment and then said, "I guess not. I mean, we crashed into each other in the hall at school today and it kind of weird-ed me out, so when I saw him here-

"What did he do?!" Sokka cut in.

Katara looked sheepish, at her brother's outburst, "Well, nothing really," she said, "I mean, he didn't apologize for running into me, but, I mean, he didn't – do – anything. He just got mad and stormed off."

In Aang's experience, Katara didn't scare easily. He couldn't help feeling that there was something about the story that didn't quite fit.

"So, what was weird?" he pressed her.

"Well, he was kind of... hot."

Both boys appeared mortified by her statement. For a moment, Katara seemed genuinely surprised by their reaction before realization dawned on her and she rushed to clarify herself.

"I mean, hot to the touch! Wait - no!" She waved her hand back and forth in front of her, as if trying to erase her words. Sokka made a strangled sound.

"I mean, warm! When I crashed into him, he was warm! Warmer than most people! …Oh, never mind…It's stupid."

Sokka gave her an incredulous look. Aang wasn't entirely sure what to make of her statement either, but, determined to put on a brave face, he tried to ease her embarrassment.

"Well, some people have higher body temperatures than others… I think."

Katara frowned. "No," she said with surprising force, "this wasn't normal. Lee was… It was almost like he was radiating heat." Met with blank stares in response to her statement, Katara struggled to describe what she had experienced. "You know, in the winter, when you're outside and you're holding a paper cup full of hot chocolate and it's warm in your hands? When you can feel it right through your gloves? It was like that. It was really bizarre."

"Maybe he was sitting in the sun for a long time, or something?" Aang offered lamely, trying to give Katara the benefit of the doubt.

Katara didn't seem at all happy with his attempted explanation, but she nodded her head. "Yeah… Maybe."

"Look, Lee is not hot in any sense of the word!" Exclaimed Sokka, forcefully, thumping his fist on the table for emphasis. Seeming to regain his composure somewhat, he continued, "Katara, I'm sure it's nothing. I can't believe we're having this conversation!"

Her story did sound absurd. At the same time, Aang couldn't help but remember the first day of school, and the way that Lee had drawn away from him when Aang had reached out to shake his hand. And he wanted to believe Katara. Somehow, he found it significantly less frightening to take her words at face value than to worry that she might be trying to cover up a potentially Freudian slip.

* * *

_(A/N):_

_Fact: Zuko, Aang & Katara cannot simultaneously exist in the same universe without causing a shipping war. _


	5. Stage 4

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

"Hey Aang, can I talk to you?"

Aang looked up from the game he had been playing on the computer to see Katara standing in his door way. Her expression was uncharacteristically shy, and she didn't meet his eyes when he looked back at her. He couldn't help reciprocating some of her nervousness. In the year that they had spent living under the same roof, Aang and Katara had grown close. In some ways, she was like a sister to him, but while Aang tried to think of her as family, there were times when he still couldn't shake his first impression of her, even after living with the Arnaluuk family for almost a year. She was still new and strange and very beautiful.

"Yeah, sure," he said quickly. He could only pray that his face wasn't red.

She glanced over her shoulder quickly, before she stepped into the bedroom, closing the door softly behind her.

Aang shared his room with Sokka so it was slightly cramped, with two beds taking up most of the floor space. Katara sat down on her brother's bed and folded her hands in her lap, as if she were getting ready to have a long serious talk.

"Listen, Aang, can you do me a big favour?"

"Yeah, of course I will." he answered automatically.

"There's this party tonight," she began, her tone ominous, "and I want to go, but I know dad would get mad if he knew."

"Why?"

Aang had a bad feeling about where Katara was leading the conversation, but he knew in the end he would agree to help her anyway. Katara's cheeks turned slightly pink, and she shifted uncomfortably.

"Um, it's with some of the senior students, and it's out in the woods, you know how dad is."

Even though Aang was confident that Katara knew what she was getting into, he couldn't help asking, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"Don't worry," Katara told him. "I know my way around there, so I'll be fine. Besides, Jet will be with me if anything goes wrong." Aang couldn't help but frown at the mention of Katara's attractive, rebellious 'friend'. So that was what this was all about.

"Okay," he said reluctantly, "what do you want me to do?"

"It's no big deal, really. Gran will be asleep before I leave, but dad is coming in late. If he asks about where I went, just tell him that I'm at Suki's, okay?"

"Yeah," said Aang. "No problem."

The words were barely out of his mouth when he found himself swept up into a giant hug.

"Thanks Aang!" Katara exclaimed, dropping the conspiratorial whisper she had adopted before. "Don't worry, even if I get caught I'll tell dad that you didn't know anything about it."

"I guess you don't want me to tell Sokka either, right?"

Katara was blushing more furiously than before. "Yeah, I don't think Sokka would tell dad, but he'd make a mess of things for sure."

"Don't worry, I won't say anything." Aang promised.

* * *

Hakoda didn't get home until late that night, as Katara had predicted. She had left a note for him on the kitchen table, which said that she had gone to Suki's and wouldn't be home until late. Hakoda accepted the lie completely. Aang was relieved that he hadn't asked any questions, because he didn't feel right about helping to deceive the man who had shown him such generosity since taking him in the year before. 

Aang was in the room he shared with Sokka, on the computer, when he heard Hakoda calling to him. "Aang! Do you know what Katara did with the clean laundry?"

"No!" Aang shouted back.

"Do you know Suki's number? Never mind, Sokka knows it!"

Aang knew that if Hakoda made that call, Suki's parents would pick up, and Katara would be caught.

"Wait!" Aang shouted. "They aren't there!"

"Well, where are they?!" Hakoda sounded impatient.

Aang hadn't thought that far ahead. He looked around the room, hoping for inspiration, and realized that the answer was sitting right in front of him. Pushing his chair back from the desk, Aang got out of his seat and went out into the upstairs hall, leaning over the railing by the stairs to look down at the muscular Inuit man on the main floor.

"I was chatting with Suki over the internet just a second ago. She said they were going out to a movie. I'll leave them a message and tell her to call home when she gets back."

"Okay," Hakoda answered, "just tell her I need to find a white shirt for tomorrow."

"I will!"

Aang sighed, watching Hakoda leave the hallway and enter the living room. He'd managed to buy Katara a few hours, but she didn't have a cell phone and there was no way of letting her know what was going on. To make matters worse, he'd just gotten himself involved. His only option was to try and find the party himself, and warn her. After that, all they would need to do was find a payphone, and she could call back. It wouldn't be too bad. He had a rough idea of where she was, and he knew it was probably within a fifteen minute walk from the house, so Hakoda probably wouldn't even notice that he'd left. He hoped so, at least. He didn't think he could face his foster father again if his part in Katara's scheme was discovered.

It crossed Aang's mind that bringing Katara the bad news might cause her to break off her date. Motivated by the thought (even though he knew it wasn't entirely right to feel that way) Aang made up his mind to go and crept quietly down the stairs, down the hall and to the front door, where he quietly slipped into his running shoes. He turned the knob as quietly as he could, and only opened the door wide enough to allow him to slink through it sideways.

He shut the door, slowly, carefully, and turned to go. The door swung back open behind him.

"What are you doing?"

Aang jumped, and then looked up at the taller boy standing in the doorframe. Sokka looked remarkably imposing all of a sudden, with his arms crossed over his chest and illuminated from behind by the light inside the house. He looked furious.

"You were lying to dad. Suki told me herself that she was visiting some friends in town this weekend." Sokka said in a strangely low and dangerous voice. "Where is my sister?"

Aang knew he was caught. He motioned for Sokka to come outside, hoping that Hakoda hadn't already heard their discussion, and then told him everything.

Sokka listened, frowning. When Aang finished, he told Aang to wait and went back into the house. Moments later he re-emerged wearing his sneakers and a sweatshirt.

"I'm coming with you." Sokka stated, his tone dripping with resentment.

"You're helping?"

Sokka rolled his eyes. "Well I'm not going to turn you in, and I'm not about to let you go to a bush party all by your twelve-year-old-self, so I guess I have to, don't I? Did you even bring a flashlight?"

"No." said Aang sheepishly.

"Well, let's get going." Sokka said, condescendingly. "It's probably at the circle, so we'll start there."

Aang knew that Katara would probably be completely embarrassed to have her big brother turn up and drag her home, but he was in no position to object. And now that he really thought about it, he had to admit, she probably wouldn't have been terribly thrilled to be retrieved by her gawky little foster brother either. All he could do was trail along behind the older boy like an idiot, and hope that he wasn't just making things worse.

* * *

_(A/N:) Aang and Sokka are heading out into the bush late at night! Ooh... Hopefully they won't run into any bears out there. Or any moose. Yay for my ambiguously North American setting! _

_Hmm... what do I have to do to tease some reviews out of you people? My hit counter tells me that I have a large and fairly consistent following, so what do I have to do to convince all the loiterers to stop being so apathetic and give me some feedback. Be mean if you don't like it, I can take it!_

_Sorry to the elite few who have sent me reviews. I don't mean to bitch and moan. You guys are awesome, and your comments have been really thoughtful and helpful. _


	6. Stage 5

_(A/N): A huge gold star to __Sev7n__Akatsuki Feathers__PoeticIrony__ and __SweetnessnaRose__, all of whom gave me great suggestions for last names to use for the water tribe family. I finally decided on Akatsuki Feathers' suggestion, __Arnaaluk, which means "Big woman, a spirit of the woman under the sea." Because it's just so cool. I'm also wracking my brains for an excuse to use PoeticIrony's suggestion, Kaneq, because words that end in "Q" rock my socks. Maybe Bato's last name? Or Katara's mom's maiden name? Or possibly Yue's family name?? I'm so pumped, guys! _

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Sokka led Aang down the road to the school, where the property backed into the forest. Omashu was a heavily wooded area, but the stretch of forest behind the school was the most thoroughly explored in town.

The older boy seemed to have a very clear idea of where he was going and for that Aang was grateful; he'd gone hiking in the woods before, but never at night, and the gentle uphill slope of the land seemed much more severe when he couldn't easily check his footing. He was beginning to realize that without Sokka he might have ended up searching for Katara's party for hours–without a flashlight.

Nothing looked the same in the dark, and he had to shuffle close behind Sokka to avoid tripping over anything he couldn't see. Even with the help of his flashlight, Sokka seemed to be struggling to make out the narrow trail they were following. A fresh layer of autumn leaves coated the ground, obscuring it from their view. He stopped Aang and made him retrace their steps more than once when he lost track of the main path.

They heard the party before they saw the firelight through the trees. There was loud music playing, and it sounded like people were shouting to be heard over the din.

The circle wasn't a terribly impressive gathering place – just a clearing with a few rocks and a fallen log in it. The debris formed a roughly circular seating arrangement, and it suited the needs of the teenagers who held parties there just fine. The 'party' turned out to be little more than about ten people who were using the logs as benches and warming various drinks in their hands, all seated around a small cooler and a pair of computer speakers linked up to someone's mp3 player.

Katara was sitting on one of the rocks by herself, watching Jet play a drinking game with a few of the other boys. She had a beer bottle in one of her hands, which looked to be about three quarters full. Aang saw her take a very small sip from it, and thought – for the first time – that Katara looked rather childish.

Sokka approached his sister quietly, and tapped her on the shoulder. She started and whipped around, nearly slapping him in the face with her long braid.

Aang expected Sokka to chastise her, but instead he just said, "Dad's looking for you. He was going to call Suki's house."

"I told him you guys went to a movie," Aang interjected, "so he didn't call the house yet, but if you call him first…"

"No," Katara interrupted, casting a resentful glance towards Jet, who was still oblivious to the whole exchange, "that's okay. I think I'll just go home." Returning her attention to Aang, she smiled sweetly and said, "Thanks, Aang, you really saved me."

"No problem," said Aang, immediately forgetting the ordeal he had gone through to reach her.

Katara paused momentarily, seeming to weigh her options.

"I'm just going to go say goodbye to Jet," she said at last, gesturing for Aang and Sokka to wait where they were. Aang watched her go, and noticed a few of the other kids in the circle were looking at them. Usually Aang was accustomed to being the centre of attention, but he found the collective gaze of the group unnerving somehow.

The loud music belting out of the speakers in the middle of the circle was enough to drown out the sound of Katara and Jet's conversation, but when Jet touched Katara's elbow in an apologetic gesture, and led her away from where his friends were sitting, Aang got the gist of things. He watched as Katara's expression softened at something he said. She shook her head, and they talked for a moment or two more she turned away and returned to where Aang and Sokka were standing.

"Ready?" asked Sokka.

"Yeah, yeah," Katara answered. Moments before she had seemed almost eager to be rescued. Now she looked surly, as if Sokka were dragging her away from the best party she had ever been to in her entire life. Sokka didn't comment on the attitude, and took the lead again.

* * *

The walk back seemed easier than the one before it. Although the trail was not steep, travelling downhill was more agreeable than the reverse. Aang felt more secure with both the Arnaaluk siblings by his side, and he thought his eyes had adjusted to the dark. He recognized a few of the landmarks along the path time around; there was the fallen pine tree that had been knocked over in a heavy rainstorm the year before, and there was the ring of rocks where school kids sometimes held wrestling matches when they managed to slip away from school property, away from the roving eyes of teacher-supervisors.

While he was looking off into the trees, he heard a muffled thump in front of him, and Sokka grunted and swore. The light went out abruptly, and the world went black. The leaves rustled in the distance – it sounded like an animal racing away from them through the bush. Aang froze immediately, and Katara bumped into him from behind with a surprised squeak.

"Sokka!" she exclaimed, her voice a mixture of panic and indignation, "turn the flashlight back on!"

"Shit," Sokka's voice was hushed.

"What happened?" asked Aang nervously.

"I hit my foot. I dropped the flashlight." Sokka's voice was taking on a worried quality that didn't sit well with Aang at all. He heard the sound of leaves crunching on the ground ahead of him, and realized that Sokka had knelt down to feel the ground for the flashlight on his hands and knees.

"I… I think the flashlight rolled down the hill,"

The pronouncement was met with silence, as the three looked towards one another blindly, hoping that someone would suggest a solution.

"Maybe we should go back…" Katara suggested.

"No," said Sokka, "we're most of the way out by now, and if we try to change direction we'll just get confused. Once we get out of the road we'll have enough moonlight to see, and we can follow the road the rest of the way."

"I can't see either of you at all," Aang told them. He felt something brush against the inside of his wrist, and a cool hand slipped securely around his own.

"I've got you," Katara said, reassuringly.

Aang felt his cheeks going warm at the contact. He wanted to answer her, say something cool, but he didn't trust himself to do it.

"Sokka, give me your hand."

Something jammed into Aang's eye, and he yelped loudly.

"Sorry, my bad!" he heard Sokka say. "Katara, how am I supposed to give you my hand if I can't see you?"

Katara heaved a frustrated sigh, but eventually she and Sokka found each other in the dark and clasped hands. Once they had all composed themselves, they moved forward again, this time with Katara in the lead.

The walk was long, the dark treacherous. Aang stumbled several times, and his hand grew sweaty in Katara's, but she didn't relinquish her grip. Instead she tightened her hold on him, dragging him behind her like a mother pulling a small child through a particularly large and treacherous parking lot. He was about to ask her to let go when she slowed to a stop, and paused. Aang spotted a flickering orange glow through the trees ahead of them.

"Did we get turned around?" Sokka's voice came from somewhere on the other side of Katara.

"No," said Aang, straining his ears, "I don't hear any music…"

"You're right," said Sokka, surprised, "do you think they left already?"

"No way," said Katara confidently, "Jet wouldn't leave a bonfire going in the middle of the woods, he knows better than that."

They all moved together toward the light ahead, releasing each other's hands silently, without discussion.

Aang's foot snagged on something, almost tripping him. It turned out to be a nylon rope, anchored to the ground. His eyes followed it up into the trees, and rested on a dark shape – a bag, probably a backpack, hung over a tree branch to prevent animals from reaching it.

As they drew closer, it became evident that the glow was emanating from the shape of an orange two-man tent, erected in a flat area where the ground seemed relatively levelled out. There was someone inside, a hunched silhouette against a warm, iridescent light radiating through the fabric. The tent gave off enough illumination for them to make out a bit of the campsite around them. It was clear that whoever was staying there had been settled in for some time; a fire pit had been dug out of the ground, and a large pile of ash and a number of cigarette butts had accumulated at the bottom of it. A shadowy ouline stretched between two trees turned out to be a laundry line with clothing hanging from it.

"We are so screwed," Sokka commented in a whisper.

"What are you talking about?" Aang kept his voice low, but he couldn't stop a hopeful smile from spreading across his face, "This guy is bound to have a flashlight or something."

"Sure. And he could be a knife-wielding psycho!" Sokka hissed, "Aang, this guy isn't on a camping trip; he's probably homeless!"

The outburst must have alerted the person in the tent to the group's presence, because the light in the tent suddenly died, and they heard the sound of shifting fabric and the door being unzipped. In spite of his confident assertion earlier, Aang moved back unconsciously, preparing to make a run for it. Something clicked, and Aang's vision was flooded with bright, white light. His eyes snapped shut against it, and he raised a hand to shield them.

"What are you doing here?"

Coloured spots prickled Aang's eyes, and it took him a moment to realize that the owner of the voice had lowered the light.

"S-sorry," he stuttered, "we were just lost… and…" the explanation died somewhere in his throat and lodged there, silencing him as his eyesight resolved and the image before him came into focus. The low angle of the flashlight, now aimed at the ground, cast strange fearsome shadows across the face of the boy before them, but the blistering red mark across his eye made his identity unmistakable.

Everyone stared.

Pale and wild-haired, Lee seemed to stand frozen in the center of a bizarre spotlight, like a boy trapped in some sort of stage-fright nightmare.

* * *

_(A/N): There you are Zuko, finally!!_ _Did you guys miss him or what? I know I did. _

_Sorry for the ending here, but I wanted to get this out in decent time. Hope its not too rush, let me know if you spot any problems._

_For the record, Aang doesn't find the campsite too weird because he is a very accepting person. I think he spent his early years living in a 'hippie' commune with his parents before he went to live in the city with Gyatso. I'm not sure if that will ever make it into my storyline, but it deserves to be said anyway. In all honesty, this fic is turning out to have almost nothing to do with Firestarter at all. Oh well. I guess I should be glad! Just rehashing would be boring. _

_Anyways, I guess I should warn you guys that rl has caught up with me at last, and updates are going to slow down for a while because (BOOYAH!) I got a new job. My parents are ashamed of me, though, because I accepted a position as a telephone interviewer. If you're a Canadian and you ever get a call from ISR (the institute for social research) during dinner hour please be forgiving and let me and my peers ask you invasive questions about pap smears and breastfeeding and whether or not you drink bottled water. Yeah. _


	7. Stage 6

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Aang, Katara and Sokka stood rooted in the middle of the campsite, dumbfounded by the scene in front of them. Lee stared back with his good eye wide and swivelling back and forth to look at each one of them in turn. He had the appearance of a hunted thing, and his eyes, flashing gold in the dark, only made him seem more feral and dangerous. 

Sokka was the first to attempt communication, "So… I guess_ this_ is why you didn't want to work on the project at your place..?" 

"What are you doing here?" Lee said, for the second time. Katara's expression hardened. 

"Last time I checked this land was part of a conservation area!" she piped up in her brother's defense. 

Lee's pale cheeks broke out into a blotchy shade of red, but he still retaliated without missing a beat, "So you think you can just come sneaking around?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me!" 

"Guys, guys," Aang pleaded, "just calm down. This is all a misunderstanding!" 

Much to his surprise, both teenagers quieted down, and everyone turned to regard him attentively. Feeling more confident, he took his cue to continue. 

"We're just on our way back from a party, but we lost our flashlight and got lost. We saw the light from your tent and followed it here, hoping we could find some help but… is everything ok?"

"Y-yeah. Yeah I'm fine," Answered Lee, his face still flushed. Much to Aang's surprise, he sounded more embarrassed than angry.

"Okay, that's good, I'm just glad you aren't in some kind of trouble." Aang tried to keep his voice light and easy going, but his mind was racing with possible scenarios to explain what Lee was doing there.

"So…" Sokka began, seeming to realize that Aang wasn't planning to continue, "do you usually camp out here, or…?"

Lee hesitated, his eyes flicking over to Katara, who was watching him with her arms crossed and a severe expression. His gaze was measured, calculating, and finally came back to settle on Aang. 

"See, my uncle and I are between houses," Lee began uncertainly, "and he's planning to move here but for now he's staying at a motel in the town over – he's old and stuff – but there's no way to commute in the morning, really, so I came here so I wouldn't miss any school until the deal – he's bidding on a cottage, I think, so once that goes through we can move in." 

The last of the older boy's words tumbled out of his mouth in a jumbled rush, and Aang had to sift through them to make sense of any of it. The explanation was a flimsy one, but Aang decided to let it slide, hoping the two siblings would follow his example. Lee looked anxious, but also prepared to defend himself at a moment's notice. Badgering him with questions would probably just start a fight.

"Oh, cool," said Aang, wishing he could think of something better to say, "Is it the Jenson's place? I think it's been on sale for a while."

"I don't really remember the details, my uncle is the one taking care of things," Lee said quickly. The boy had gone from aggressive to awkward in moments, but Aang knew better than to think that the situation had been defused. He was reluctant to risk saying anything that might put the teenager on the defensive again, but he couldn't resist his own good nature, which demanded that he offer to help. 

"Well, you seem like you're okay, since you obviously know what you're doing," he continued, "but you shouldn't have to stay out here all by yourself. You could come stay with us for a while until everything with your house gets sorted out, if you want…" he let the offer hang, giving Lee an opportunity to respond, and pretended not to notice the nearly identical looks of indignation that Katara and Sokka were directing at him from either side. He doubted that Lee had missed them either.

"No." said the scar-faced boy, "I'm fine." 

In desperation, Aang turned towards Katara. He widened his eyes and locked them with hers. She raised an eyebrow. He pouted. She glared. He frowned. She looked away. The exchange lasted only a few seconds, but in that time they might as well have had an entire conversation. Katara sighed heavily, and then began to speak slowly, with obvious reluctance, "It really wouldn't be any trouble. Our family is involved in an emergency foster care program so we have spare cots and we're used to -

"I'm sorry, but I don't even know you people," Lee said, "I said I'm fine, so leave it alone." 

The cold quietness of his voice had the effect of an iron gate crashing shut in the space between them, sealing him off from the group, visible but unreachable. Katara saw it, but had never been one to admit defeat, and pressed him further. 

"Look, we were trying to be nice! You can't expect us to just see you living like this and then just walk away!" (Aang grimaced, knowing that Katara had attacked Lee's pride with her last remark.)

"Where do you get off? I told you to mind your own business! You don't know a thing about me and I'm not some charity case looking to be adopted into your happy little family." 

Katara gasped, her eyes flitting over to where Aang was standing and Sokka moved in front of his foster brother in a protective gesture. They meant well, but their reactions only made Aang feel more aware of the implications of what Lee had said. His ears went suddenly hot, and he felt a mixture of anger and embarrassment that made his stomach churn unpleasantly. 

"Forget it, Aang, this jerk doesn't know what he's talking about," said Sokka, reading the younger boy's expression easily. He turned his attention to Lee. "Since you're so eager to get rid of us, then I guess you won't mind lending us a flashlight so we can find our way back."

Lee's expression was hard and unyielding as he regarded them in silence. Moving slowly, to show his intention, he passed the flashlight to Sokka in a gentle, underhanded throw. It was an easy catch, but Sokka fumbled it and had to stoop in order to retrieve the light. No one said anything as he straightened up with a curt nod to the teenager standing in front of the tent.

Defeated, Aang allowed Katara to shepherd him ahead of her as the three children filed out of the campsite, leaving its sole occupant standing by himself in the dark. None of them thought to ask if Lee had a spare flashlight for himself, or even if they were headed in the right direction. 

It wasn't until they were well away from the campsite that the silence between them was broken by a wild cry behind them, and they all whirled around in time to see a bright orange flare burn brightly and fade to nothing through the trees from which they had come. 

"Maybe we should go back," said Aang, worriedly. 

"No," Katara's voice was firm, but she had Aang's shoulder in a vice-like grip, and he could tell that she wasn't sure of what she was saying. "Lee made it clear that he didn't want our help." 

They lingered there for a moment, on the edge of turning back, all wondering what they had just witnessed. Eventually a low, steady glow appeared in the distance. Sokka exhaled.

"He probably just started a fire. See? He's fine," Aang wasn't sure if the teenager was trying to reassure the others or if he was speaking to himself, but he nodded anyway. Turning his back on the campsite for the last time, he let the Arnaaluk siblings lead him home. 

Lee was not at school the next morning.

* * *

_(A/N): If you want to see my favourite chapter ever, go check out my brand spanking new live journal for a Firestarter one-shot about Zuko's past,(posted March 7__th__) and say hello if you've got your own account. I didn't want to post it on in case I decide to add parts of it to the story later. Consider it bonus content, or a preview. Something like that. _

_Anyway, my LJ is here: http/ badculture. livejournal. com/ (copy and paste then remove the spaces). There should also be a link on my profile if you can't get that to work._


	8. stage 7

_(A/N): I think Jet's party was either on a Thursday or a Sunday night. Whoops. I'll have to tidy that up at some point. For now lets just say he's having a weeknight party because he's rebellious like that._

_Also, I'm putting another one of my name suggestions to use in this chapter. _

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Aang didn't get much sleep after his encounter with Lee in the woods. Even though Lee had been out of line, saying what he had, Aang was still worried about him. What sort of uncle – if indeed, the teenager even had an uncle – left their nephew to camp out in the woods alone? His mind constructed on scenario after another, trying to provide an explanation for the other boy's bizarre living arrangement. Perhaps Lee was a runaway. It was easy to imagine that the boy had come from an abusive situation, when he thought about the horrendous scar across his eye. Maybe he was some sort of outlaw, on the run from the police. Or perhaps he had been abandoned.

_Charity case._

The words rattled around in his brain like dice, long after his foster brother had fallen asleep on the other side of the room.

Aang spent the next morning in a semi-conscious haze, and would have slept in late if Kanna hadn't come into his and Sokka's room to rouse the both of them. Hakoda had been called into work at the police station long before sunrise, and Kanna didn't have a vehicle of her own, so the children had to walk to school that morning.

The moment that the children were out of the house, the conversation inevitably fell to the events of the night before. Sokka seemed to think that the fact that Katara had gone to the trouble of sneaking out of the house, only to be ignored at a party by Jet, was comedy gold, and delighted in tormenting her about it most of the way to school.

"Oh my!" he taunted her, his voice high in a poor imitation of hers. "I'm going to be in the general vicinity of a boy, how romantic!" He swooned mockingly.

Katara responded by punching him a little less than playfully in the gut.

Aang listened to the exchange without paying much attention. Although the siblings were bickering with one another, he had the strangest feeling that they were collaborating somehow to make him feel better, and he noticed that the subject of Lee was carefully avoided. This only worsened his mood.

* * *

Seeing Toph cheered him up a bit before his homeroom classes started. She was rowdier than usual, having spent the previous evening practicing with her kick boxing club. (Her parents still adamantly believed her story about being in the school choir, and were waiting with bated breath to see Toph in a concert at the end of the year.) She was full of stories about a new martial arts move that one of the other girls in the group had taught her, and her plans to implement it in the wrestling ring at lunch hour.

Class went as usual until about an hour in, when the teacher's lesson on fur hats and their historical importance was interrupted by a loud, frantic series of knocks on the door.

"Is Aang here?" he heard Sokka's voice calling through the door.

"Sokka," Madame Macmu-Ling, began, even before she had opened the door, "You had better have a good excuse for disrupting my class. This time." Several members of the class snickered.

"Important family stuff," Sokka said quickly, as the door swung open. "I need to talk to Aang out in the hall, it can't wait. It's kind of an emergency."

_Family stuff._ Aang's mind immediately leapt to Gyasto, his guardian, and his heart leapt with nervous anticipation. He bounded out of the classroom as fast as if he'd been fired from a slingshot, his tiredness from that morning forgotten. Macmu-Ling didn't raise any objections (she, like most everyone else in the school, recognized that Aang was living with the Arnaaluks under rather unusual circumstances) but she hovered by the door, watching over them.

Sokka raised his eyebrows at her, and when she simply raised her own eyebrows by way of response, he finally demanded, "A little privacy, please?!"

The minute the door clicked shut, Sokka seized Aang's forearm and started dragging him down the hallway towards the front doors. "Lee didn't show up for school today," he said, "something's wrong. We have to hurry, I told my teacher I was just going to the bathroom."

On any other day, Aang doubted that Sokka would have blinked twice if Lee had not appeared in class, but he knew that today was different. There was something wrong about the way that they had found him the night before.

Aang hurried after him, "You want to go look for him? What about Katara?" he asked, pulling his arm free from Sokka's grip.

"No way are we bringing Katara. He'll probably listen to you, but Katara will just get him all wound up again."

Aang wasn't clear on what he was supposed to be talking to Lee about, but he had a feeling that Sokka wasn't entirely certain either. He remembered Lee's paranoid demeanor the night before, the shout, the flare and wondered what they would find when they got to Lee's campsite. If he had been hurt, and they had just walked away…

The woods were easier to navigate during the day, and they found their way back without much difficulty. Aang, the more agile of the two, sped ahead of the older boy and made it to the campsite first.

It was empty. The backpack and the laundry lines were gone, and the tent had been packed up and carried away, leaving behind only a small, rectangular patch of dirt, bare of the fallen leaves that coated the rest of the area. The fire pit had long since gone cold, and it was evident that Lee had thrown loose dirt over it to smother the embers. There was a long, thin gash in the earth, and the leaves around were blackened and scorched, most of them reduced to ash.

"This is definitely the place," Sokka said, after some time. On a darker note, he added, "looks like he skipped town. That's not suspicious."

"How?" Aang asked. "The shuttle bus into town only comes twice a month."

"It's called hitch hiking, city boy," Sokka told him, rolling his eyes.

"Oh," said Aang, "I hadn't thought of that."

"He'll be long gone by now," said Sokka, "He probably caught a ride with someone headed into town first thing in the morning."

"We don't know that for sure," Aang said optimistically, "he could still be in Omashu. Maybe we should try walking along the highway and see if we find him."

Sokka looked at him. "Are you serious?"

"Yes," Aang answered, without hesitation. On second thought he added, "Aren't you? I thought you came out here to look for him."

"I thought he was hurt or something," Sokka said defensively, "but instead he made a run for it. For all we know he's a wanted criminal or something. We should probably just tell dad and see what he thinks."

"No." Aang told him, with more force than either of them expected. "No getting the police involved."

Sokka began to object, but Aang cut him short before he could begin.

"Sokka, he's in trouble. If he could go to the police he would have done it a long time ago," he thought of Gyatso, and how much help the police had been when he had gone missing. Aang admired Hakoda, he really did, but he felt certain – incredibly certain – that getting him involved would only make matters worse. Before Sokka could raise any more objections, Aang set out in what he hoped was the direction of the main road, trusting his foster brother to follow him.

"We'll never find him," he cried in exasperation.

"Do you want to be the one to tell Mme Macmu-Ling why I didn't come back to class?" Aang called over his shoulder.

Sokka picked up the paced after that.

* * *

Aang tried to bend his thoughts, to think the way Lee thought, despite how little he knew about the mysterious boy. He wanted to spread his consciousness out across the whole town, see every option. Where would Lee go if he were in trouble?

They followed the main road, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of where the scarred boy might have disappeared to. Or at least, Sokka was scanning the area. Aang's eyes moved back and forth, but he had almost forgotten the word around him, and was searching intently within himself for the answer. And suddenly it all seemed very clear.

Aang stopped walking, and looked around, taking in the sights around him for the first time. They were only a few blocks down the road from school, outside of _Kuruk's_, a small convenience store that was popular with the students because it sold milkshakes and ice cream in addition to the usual knickknacks found in such places. Aang made a bee-line for the front door, with Sokka close at his heels.

"Wait, Bato is in there. If he sees us, he'll tell dad we were skipping school!" Aang ignored him, and entered the building.

The owner of the store, Bato, was sitting behind the counter with a magazine in his hands, but his attention was directed towards one of the aisles. When he saw Aang and Sokka walking into the store he blinked in surprise, and then said, "Is there a PA day at your school I don't know about or something? Why is everyone…"

"Lee!" Aang exclaimed, charging past the store owner without so much as a nod of acknowledgement.

Lee looked like he was getting ready to go portaging, with a large pack, tent and bedroll strapped onto his back and a canteen at his waist. He started guiltily in the middle of loading up his arms with non-perishables from the shelf, and dropped one of the packages in his arms. He bent down to pick it up, but Aang was faster and his hands were free, so Lee's hand ended up landing awkwardly on top of the younger boy's. For a moment, Lee's expression read pure terror, but then his usual neutral façade was back in place and he pulled away.

"I know what you're doing!" said Lee warningly.

Aang wanted to help. He wanted to understand, so that he would know what to do, what to say, to reassure Lee that that was all he wanted, to help.

Aang reached out and gripped the other boy's wrist desperately, and he _bent_ himself.

That was what it felt like, being bent and twisted and folding himself into a new shape, making himself fit. His vision blurred, and he was vaguely aware of Lee making a disgusted noise and attempting to pull away from him. He heard a sound like air rushing through his ears, drowning out Sokka's voice, far away, saying his name, felt his legs give out and his chin clip one of the shelves on his way down.

He thought he could smell gasoline.

* * *

_(A/N): Oh I'm so mean.__ Or maybe not. You tell me._

_Was it clear that Hakoda is a cop? Hopefully I didn't throw anyone by jumping from "dad" to "the police". _

_Also, I didn't think of this until I was rereading and editing this chapter, but all the hand brushing and meaningful eye contact at the end of this chapter seem kind of like a clichéd romantic plot device? Yeah. I loled. Just so no one feels that I was being intentionally misleading, this isn't going to be Zukaang or anything. (You can read it like that if you want, of course.) I'm just not sure how else to work the scene… I think maybe I should take advantage of the whole betareader thing. Opinions? _

_More narration, less dialogue. I think I like it better that way._


	9. Interlude: Zuko

****

Firestarter

**Inspired by the novel of the same name by Stephen King.**

**Avatar the Last Airbender characters are property of Nickelodeon.**

**Zuko**

June 25th, 1998

Zuko woke up to sunlight streaming through the car window, the smell of gasoline and his father shaking him by the shoulder. The little boy rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and looked around. They were in the parking lot of a highway stop, pulled up in front of a gas station. It must have been fairly early in the morning because theirs was the only car there.

"Come on," said Ozai, "let's get this over with as fast as we can."

"I need to pee," said Azula, in the back seat.

Ozai moved around to the back of the car so that he could help his daughter out of her booster seat. Zuko got out and stretched his arms and legs tiredly, still sore from the long ride, and realized that he needed to use the bathroom as well.

"I'm going inside." Zuko told his father, trotting across the pavement towards the sliding glass doors of the building, past the stand of red plastic containers of petrol. Zuko tried not to think about what would happen if there was a fire here, the way everything-

(-_just went up in flames and the heat blasted outwards from the centre of the explosion and-)_

Zuko stepped through the door and shivered as he was struck by a blast of cold air from the interior of the building. Crossing his arms in front of him for warmth, he went up to the front counter to ask the large man behind it where the bathroom was. Even though Zuko was sure the AC must have been cranked up as high as it would go, the round-faced cashier's forehead was shining with perspiration, and his blue polyester shirt had dark patches underneath both his arms.

"Excuse me," said Zuko timidly, "is there a washroom here?" The man gave Zuko a key attached to a long, slinky pink cord and directed him to the back of the store.

The bathroom was grungy and foreboding. Zuko finished his business quickly and washed his hands as well as he could without soap, since the dispenser was empty. The hand-dryer didn't seem to work, so Zuko had to wipe his hands on the front of his shirt before he went back out.

Before he returned to the front, Zuko paused to look at the store's selection. There wasn't much in the way of breakfast food, but Zuko found a package of doughnuts and a few juice boxes that were small enough that he could hide them under his shirt fairly easily, as long as he slouched a bit to hide the bulge under his clothes.

Zuko gave the front counter a wide birth on his way out of the store, keeping the shelves between him and the cashier's line of sight as much as possible until he reached the doors. He couldn't help but wonder what his mother would think whenever he had to do this, but he knew that his father didn't have any money left and they all had to eat.

"Hey!"

Zuko froze in his tracks at the sound of the cashier's voice, looking back over his shoulder nervously and cradling his stolen goods to his chest as inconspicuously as possible. "You forgot to give back the key."

"My sister needs to use the bathroom too. I was going to give the key to her." Zuko answered without turning, unwilling to face the cashier.

"Alright," said the sweaty man behind the counter good-naturedly, "but make sure she gives it back before you guys leave, okay?"

"Okay!" Zuko called over his shoulder, darting outside.

The car wasn't there.

"Dad?!" He called out.

There was no answer.

Zuko looked around wildly, searching for his family, but they were nowhere in sight. The parking lot was abandoned, apart from a white van parked nearby the gas pumps. Zuko froze when he saw the van.

He couldn't stand around the store, not with an armload of stolen goods on him. He took a step forward, unsure of where he was trying to go, and something hit him from behind, knocking him forward onto his stomach. Zuko hit his head on the pavement when he landed, and the package of doughnuts squished against his belly. He wanted to get up, but he suddenly felt very heavy, and there was a sharp pain digging into his back. The side of his head was all wet, and he realised that he had landed in the puddle and it was red… and it smelled… like…

_(…blood._

_She was lying on her side on the carpet with her back to him when he found her. Zuko touched the woman's shoulder cautiously, trying to will her into being alright. _

"_Mom?" _

_She didn't respond._

_His eyes brimming with tears, Zuko rolled her over as gently as possible. Through blurred vision he saw his mother's eyes staring up at the ceiling blankly. He could see that her nose had been bleeding; there was red on her lips and her chin. Her mouth was open, and there was blood on her teeth as well._

_She had always said she needed to see a doctor about those nosebleeds, and the headaches that accompanied them. _

_The headaches she got whenever Zuko's father told her to do something she didn't want to._

_Zuko began to cry in earnest then, unable to think of any alternative course of action. _

_He felt a weight on his shoulder. _

"_Zuko," said his father, "we have to go."_

"_But mom-" Even as he protested, Zuko found himself rising to his feet. _

"_Forget about it." Ozai ordered sharply. _

_And Zuko forgot.)_

* * *

(Edit): So basically, I totally failed to add a note earlier thanking sev7n for being my unofficial beta. Yeah that's right, I pay my betareaders under the counter, because that's how I role. And by "pay" I mean I thank them politely.

* * *


	10. Stage 8

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

_NO__!_

_The denial reverberated through the boy's mind like a __physical force. He felt as if it were peeling him apart._

_MY FATHER WOULDN'T DO THAT TO ME__!_

_Father. The word evoked a memory, of a loud, boisterous laugh and calloused hands. Clothes that carried the smell of__ hay and animals, mingled with scent __of __thick sweet smoke. Faint and far away, the memories led him to another, this one more solid than the ones before, of an elderly man watching over him, praising him, cracking the oven open to peer inside. _

_The feeling of being loved completely, of belonging._

_Not this loneliness, this fear._

_Aang rejected the memory of this unfamiliar father and wrenched himself away. This was someone else, not him. He had no place here._

"He's coming around, Bato! I think he's okay!"

Aang opened his eyes. It was as if someone had spattered tar across his vision. Everything was black, and he had to blink to make sure his eyes were actually open. He felt his eyelashes lace together and separate several times before his sight began to resolve, and when it did everything seemed like it was slightly off colour. The lights were too bright. There was a strange, high pitched noise coming from somewhere, but Aang couldn't identify what it was. His mouth tasted like blood, and he realized that he'd bitten his tongue.

His legs were above his head. Aang looked down, and saw that his lower legs had been lifted up to rest on top of a wide cardboard box, which he guessed had been brought out from Bato's back room. He was sprawled on his back on the floor of the food aisle, and Sokka was kneeling next to him. A bit further down the aisle, Zuko was standing against the shelves, watching the scene out of the corner of his eye. The scarred boy looked as if he had been deeply shaken by something, and Aang realized that all of the packages and boxes that the boy had been carrying before were scattered across the floor.

Slowly, Aang remembered the events before his awakening.

"Did I… faint?" he asked, embarrassed.

Sokka was hovering over him. He appeared extremely concerned, but smiled when he saw Aang looking at him curiously.

"Sure did, dweeb."

Bato joined him a moment later crouching down next to Aang and Zuko. He seemed relieved to see Aang awake. "How are you feeling?" asked Bato, "Did you hit your head?"

Aang shook his head. "I don't think so," he responded.

"I saw him hit his chin, but Lee stopped him from hitting the floor too hard," Sokka supplied on his behalf.

"Who?"

Aang scrambled to gather his thoughts. Lee. Who was..? He looked at Zuko- no, not Zuko, Lee, he corrected himself. The teenager was watching him cautiously from a ways down the aisle. The dream, or the vision, or whatever it had been came rushing back. He had been Lee, but he hadn't been called that, he had never even heard the name "Lee" before. He had been young, so young, and he was stealing for his father… someone hit him from behind and then… everything was hazy after that point, but he knew there was more.

"How long was I out?" he asked, lifting himself up with his arms and ignoring the worry that creased Sokka's face as he did so.

"Just under two minutes," Sokka told him, "Bato was about to call an ambulance."

Aang nodded, but inside he was struggling with disbelief. It felt like an eternity since he had first entered the store. That dream had seemed so lengthy and so vivid. He thought back to the bizarre sensation that had overcome him before he fell, the feeling of_ bending_ his mind, extending it towards the other boy in a desperate attempt to communicate with him. Was it possible that he had imagined the whole thing? His instincts were telling him that what he had seen was the truth, but his common sense told him otherwise.

"What did you _do_?" asked Lee.

Aang couldn't really remember doing anything, so he shrugged.

"Did you eat or drink anything this morning?" Bato asked him. "Have you been feeling sick?"

Aang shook his head. "No, I was in a hurry this morning so I didn't eat anything."

Bato helped Aang up, and let him sit in the chair behind the front desk while he went to the back to pour Aang a glass of water.

Deliberately taking his time, Lee remained in the aisle, and went about gathering the packages and boxes he had dropped earlier. As much as he wanted to say something, Aang knew that he couldn't risk it with Bato within earshot. The scarred boy carried everything to the front of the store and deposited it on the counter next to the cash register, looking Aang directly in the eye as he did so. It seemed like he was daring him to say anything.

Bato returned with Aang's drink, and then swiftly moved to bag Lee's purchase. It seemed like the teenager was preparing for a long trip, most likely on foot, which supported Sokka's theory that he was planning to skip town. He had probably packed his things in the middle of the night, and then waited until the store opened in the morning to pick up some last minute supplies before he took off. It was incredible luck that they had managed to catch him, and that he wasn't gone already. Seeing that Lee was almost ready to leave, Aang finished the last of his water quickly, hoping to confront him outside.

"I feel a lot better, I think I'm ready to head home now," he volunteered. He stood up quickly, and immediately regretted it. He didn't fall, but he knew he wouldn't make it out the front door, let alone all the way home.

"Here," Sokka moved along side him, offering his shoulder for support. The height difference between the two boys made the arrangement awkward, but it wasn't unmanageable.

Lee hadn't moved yet; he had paused in order to readjust the shoulder straps on his pack and gathering up his bags.

"Hold on," said Bato, moving around the counter into the aisles, "you aren't going anywhere without putting something in your stomach."

Aang resisted the urge to groan, but stayed put, not feeling particularly prepared to start walking anyway. He looked over at Lee. Surprisingly, the scarred boy was still meandering by the counter, taking his time. He was looking at a display of lighters on the front counter, picking them up one by one and flicking them on and off experimentally.

"Here we are," said Bato, when he returned. He handed Aang a candy bar with the word "ENERGY" printed in bold across the package. "Free of charge. This should help get your blood sugar up and tide you over until you get home."

"Thanks," said Aang, gratefully, "but Sokka and I should probably get going."

"There's no rush," said Lee. Sokka and Aang looked at him in surprise, but the teenager's face betrayed nothing of what he was thinking. "If you push yourself, you'll only end up making yourself sick again. If you want to talk to me, I can wait. You probably shouldn't be walking home alone anyways."

The idea of following Lee out the door was one thing, but Lee following them was another matter entirely. Aang and Sokka shared confused glances, uncertain of what to make of this new development. The only option was to play by the peculiar boy's terms. Aang sat back down in Bato's chair and ate the candy bar slowly, aware of everyone watching him as he did it. He supposed that he should feel grateful for Lee's cooperative behaviour, but he couldn't help but find it suspicious.

Aang gave himself as much time as he could to recover, and once he felt confident that he would be able to make it home without Sokka's support, he thanked Bato again and nodded to the other boys to tell them that he was ready. Sokka stuck close to his side, watching the small boy warily for any sign that he might keel over a second time.

Lee followed the two other boys out of the store, allowing the screen door to slam shut behind him. Sokka and Aang both halted to look at him when they heard the loud noise that it made, but Lee simply nodded, conspiratorially towards the road. He didn't speak until they were a good distance from the store, where the road was shaded on either side by dense woods.

"So," he said, in a tone that was almost conversational, "why the hell are you following me?"

Sokka stopped in his tracks, forcing Aang to stop with him.

"Because we saw your hobo set up and we know you're in some kind of trouble," he stated frankly.

"We want to help!" Aang added, hoping to draw attention away from the hostility in Sokka's voice.

"I don't know what you did," Lee spat out acidly, "but don't think you can fool me. You're with them, aren't you?" The angry teenager's gaze locked onto Aang's, as if Sokka weren't even part of the conversation.

"Who?" he inquired carefully, "the police?"

"Don't play stupid!" Lee snapped, letting his groceries drop to the ground and shrugging off his heavy pack as he spoke. "New kid in town just happens to show up right around the time I do and then starts following me around? You think I'm stupid? You think you could use _bending_ on me and I wouldn't figure it out? Didn't they tell you how fucking _dangerous_ I am? Now tell me what the _hell _you just did to me!" Lee clenched his fists, and Aang swore he could see smoke rising off of the other boy's body. Sokka saw it too, and attempted to place himself in front of Aang.

"Listen, Aang didn't do anything! He hasn't been following you, he's been living with my family for a year, ask anyone!"

"Yeah, sure," said Lee maliciously, "I'll go do that. That way you can go running on home and tell the good doctors everything. Tell me, what did they offer you? Is it worth your life?"

The angry boy's fists erupted into flames, and Sokka stepped back instinctively, knocking into Aang in the process. The younger boy only stared, and remembered the gas station and the red containers of petrol from his dream. But it hadn't been a dream at all, not really. It didn't make sense, but the pieces were beginning to come together in his mind anyways, defying rational thought. It wasn't just fire. It was energy, pulsating from the teenager's mind to his hands. Aang didn't just see the flames: he could sense them and he could tell that there was intent behind the burning.

"You're on fire!" Sokka blurted out, eliciting only an annoyed glance from the scarred boy. "He's _on fire_!" he said again, this time to Aang.

"You're Zuko," Aang said, moving past his stunned foster brother. He wasn't afraid.

"Damn straight," said the boy in the midst of the flames.

"I'm sorry," Aang told him, "I was in your head. I saw your past, I think. I don't really know what I did, or how. It was an accident."

"Aang, what-"

"It's okay, Sokka," said Aang, without looking behind him. To Zuko he said, "I know you're not going to hurt me. Not on purpose, anyways."

Aang didn't know what exactly had possessed him to say such a thing, but he knew it was the truth. Zuko's hands were still blazing brightly, but he made no move to strike. He merely watched the young boy warily from where he stood.

"Look, I don't know who you're so-" Aang stopped himself before he could say, '_who you're so scared of.' _Somehow he knew if would be a bad idea to imply that Zuko might not have the upper hand. "…angry at. But I don't know any doctors and nobody's offering me anything. All I know is what I saw, ok?"

"Why should I believe you?"

Aang thought for a long time before he answered.

"I've been living here for a long time, about a year now. Do you think anyone could have known a year in advance that you were going to come here? Did _you_ know you were going to come here a year ago?"

"I asked around, they said you were new," Zuko said. He sounded slightly less sure of himself than before.

"I know," said Aang, "I don't think they get a lot of new kids around here."

And just like that, the flames flickered out. They were three ordinary boys standing on the side of the road again, one wearing a very large and heavy backpack on his shoulders.

"How…" Zuko paused, as if he weren't sure if he wanted to know the answer to his question. "How much did you see?"

* * *

(A/N): I write to be reviewed, so please indulge me. It's the best thing you can do to keep me productive, because it keeps the story on my mind.

Again, a big thank you to my beta sev7n for being my extra pair of eyes, keeping me motivated and just generally putting up with me!

Domenic: Thank you for your review! You also get a cookie for being such an astute reader :) it's nice to see someone paying attention and catching all my little hints.


	11. Stage 9

Many thanks to everyone who reviewed. I had a really really hard time with this chapter, and you have no idea how much it helped hearing from you. A special mention goes to Claymade, who went way above and beyond the call of duty. Sev7n also gets a big thank you for providing major support, cleaning up after me and just generally winning at everything. I have no idea how I ever survived without him!

* * *

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Once he had recovered from the initial shock of seeing one of his classmates burst into flames, Sokka took Aang and Zuko out for lunch. Aang had to marvel at the teenager's ability to approach any situation by breaking it down into its most basic components and dealing with each one in turn.

Zuko was obviously reluctant to spend any more time in the company of the other two boys than was strictly necessary, but curiosity and the promise of free food turned out to be more than the tent dwelling young man could pass up. He accepted Sokka's invitation on the condition that they avoid the Chinese take-out place on the main road. Given the selection of restaurants to choose from in Omashu, the boys were left with few options (at least within walking distance). In the end, they decided to hike all the way to the local grocery store on the other end of town, where Sokka bought them a box of chicken wings and potato wedges at the deli-counter.

It was late enough in the day that no one spared them a second look; the grocery store was a favourite place for students on lunch hour. Zuko's scar and heavy bag attracted a few quick glances, but no one had the nerve to stare for very long before they went back to their shopping, suddenly very fixated on what ever happened to be displayed on the nearest shelf.

They ate their meal outside, using some of the parking blocks near the entrance of the store as a bench. Zuko was calm while Aang told him what he remembered seeing when they had made contact in _Kuruk's. _The story was choppy at best, and Aang was hazy on most of the details of his vision, but Zuko nodded along, accepting whatever the younger boy said at face value. When Aang got to the part of the story when he, or rather, Zuko, was struck from behind, he didn't know how to continue. It was the most disjointed part of his vision, and it had been painful somehow – it didn't seem right to bring it up in front of Sokka.

Although he wasn't terribly expressive, Aang still got the distinct impression that Zuko was deeply satisfied with the arrangement. He seemed most comfortable out in the open with his back to the wall, where he could survey the area without difficulty or fear confinement. He wondered if Sokka's intention had been to put the scarred boy more at ease all along.

That theory was dashed the moment Sokka attempted to strike up a conversation.

"So… you were _on fire_."

"Yeah," Zuko looked distinctly uncomfortable, "that tends to happen."

"Ok," Sokka responded. He had the tone of someone who expected a group of camera men to leap out at any moment and reveal that it had all been an elaborate practical joke. "And your name is really Zuko."

"Yeah."

"And Aang fits into this…where?" Zuko shrugged.

"I have no idea," he admitted. "I've never met anyone who could use bending before, aside from my family."

"Are you sure that's what it is, though?" Sokka asked him, incredulously. "Are you sure Aang didn't just hit his head and have a crazy dream? I mean, what is bendingexactly?" The question caused Zuko to pause for a moment before answering. It was evident that he wasn't used to discussing these matters with anyone, and had difficulty verbalizing them.

"It's hard to explain…I think it's the same for everyone but it comes out of different people different ways. I'm pyrokinetic, I guess, but my dad was totally different, he had… uh… mental… abilities…" Zuko tapped his temple with one finger in an attempt to clarify his meaning.

"Like me?" asked Aang curiously. Zuko's face fell, and he regretted asking the question immediately. He didn't need his new found psychic powers to figure out that he had led the conversation into dangerous territory.

"Kind of, but… not really. Long Feng called it mental dominance."

Something in Aang's mind clicked at Zuko's statement, and he recalled his vision again, the image of a woman lying on the floor. …_She had always said she needed to see a doctor about those nosebleeds, and the headaches that accompanied them…The headaches she got whenever Zuko's father told her to do something she didn't want to…_

"I don't get it," said Sokka, frankly.

"Who's Long Feng?" Aang asked quickly, before Sokka could continue along the line of questioning that he had begun.

"Err," Zuko looked a bit guilty, as if he had let much more than he had intended to slip out. "He's one of the doctors I mentioned before. One of the people I'm trying to avoid."

Sokka's palm connected with his forehead.

"So you've got special powers and you're being chased by a team of crazy scientists. Yeah, that's not a clichéd plot device."

"Shut up! This is my life you're talking about!" Zuko exclaimed with an angry huff. "I can't believe I even agreed to come here."

Aang worried that the teenager had lost patience, that he would get up and storm off, but instead he just reached into the box of chicken wings and continued eating. Food was proving to be a powerful incentive for Zuko, and Aang resolved to keep that in mind the next time he wanted the scarred boy to hang around. At the same time, he found the information worrisome. He hoped that Zuko's appetite was just a natural part of his age, and that he had enough to eat.

Aang looked down at Zuko's shoddy pack and his grocery bags, left in a heap on the pavement by the teenager's feet. He remembered his vision, how frightened and disappointed in himself Zuko had felt shoplifting in the gas station.

"Come back with us." Aang said, suddenly. He knew he didn't have any right to offer him the Arnaaluk's hospitality, but the more he thought about Zuko's living arrangements, the more it bothered him.

"Too risky," Zuko stated plainly, "I could end up drawing attention to you. I shouldn't even be here right now."

The words sank into Aang slowly, heavy with their dangerous implications. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"I don't know why they haven't already figured out that you're a bender," Zuko answered, using his teeth to pick the last bit of meat off of the bones that still remained in his hands in between his words, "but if they come after me and I'm in your house, they might find out about you by proxy. You can't afford the attention, Aang."

"Whoa, hang on!" Sokka jumped in, "How would they find out about Aang unless someone told them? I mean, he's never done anything before and we're the only three people who know about this, right?"

Zuko nodded. "As long as you don't go around bending, you'll probably be fine," he told them. "In fact, if you do bend there's a good chance that if they detect it they'll just assume that I'm the one doing it. Still, I'm pretty sure your abilities are hereditary, so you never know what you'll find if they decide to check out your background. They-"

"Omigod, hi Lee!"

The three boys nearly leaped out of their skins at the sound of the peppy, feminine voice that issued from the opposite side of the parking lot. Aang turned just in time to see a pretty brunette separate from a larger group of girls, who snickered and then moved away rather conspicuously. She hastily ran her fingers through her bangs and then adjusted the bottom of her shirt before jogging over to them, her face lit up in a radiant smile.

Zuko raised one hand in a weak greeting, his face caught somewhere between a grimace and a smile. It was impossible to tell if he was pleased at the attention but trying to act nonchalant, or completely terrified and forcing himself to smile anyways. In any case, his expression wasn't an attractive one. The scar on his face further twisted his appearance, but the girl's smile didn't falter.

"Hi Jin," said Sokka, when she reached them. It was safe to assume that she was in their grade, since both of the boys seemed to know her.

"Oh hey, Sokka," she said. It wasn't a cold greeting, but it certainly lacked the enthusiasm of the first one, and she seemed to forget about him immediately, turning back to Zuko, "so I was looking for you at school; I thought I'd take you up on that lunch date, but I guess you guys are already busy. What were you talking about? You looked so serious!"

She tilted her head to the side cutely, twisting a loose strand of hair between her thumb and index finger. Aang was tempted to label her as a bimbo at first sight, but that would have implied that she was shallow. Her intended target's frightening appearance indicated otherwise.

It was no wonder Zuko looked so confused.

"Nothing much," Sokka supplied on his behalf, "just… role-playing games."

Aang felt a bit silly, but he nodded anyways. If Jin had heard anything before, his story would do nicely to explain it.

"Oh, really? I never took you for the type," Jin responded brightly, to Zuko, "what kind?"

"Uh…" Zuko faltered.

"He's a LARPer," said Sokka, with a malicious grin on his face. Aang almost snorted at the mental image of Zuko dressed in full costume, swords and all. Zuko looked at Sokka blankly, but Jin seemed to understand. She gaped at Zuko as if she had never seen him before. Perhaps thinking he was embarrassed by Sokka's announcement, she changed topics as quickly as possible.

"Oh. What's with all that stuff? Isn't it heavy to be carrying it around with you all day?" she asked, looking at Zuko's pack.

"Yes!" Zuko jumped onto the subject before Sokka could contribute anything else the conversation. "But… uh… I didn't have space in my locker and I didn't want to leave it lying around at school."

"What's it for?" she asked, seeming completely unaware of how awkward she was making the conversation.

"I'm staying at Sokka's tonight. It's a study buddy kind of thing."

Jin giggled. "You need a canteen to stay over night at Sokka's?"

"We're going portaging on the weekend too," he added, lamely.

Jin gave him a calculating look. Aang could see the gears turning in her mind, and he started to worry that she had caught onto their story. It was possible that she already knew that Zuko hadn't been at school earlier that morning, and then his whole explanation for why he was carrying his backpack around with him would fall apart.

Worrying about this, Aang was struck by the fact that, for someone who had probably been living on the run for years, Zuko was a very incompetent liar.

"Well I was going to ask if you wanted to walk back with me, since we have next period together, but since you guys seem like you're pretty busy…" Jin let her statement trail off, pursing her lips as if she were lost in her own thoughts. It was an obvious ploy for an invitation.

If Zuko knew what she was getting at, he gave absolutely no indication of it. He seemed completely and utterly at a loss as to what to do with the pretty girl vying for his attention, and strangely vulnerable because of it.

Aang decided what he was going to do.

"You know what," he said, "you two go ahead."

He gave them both his biggest, brightest smile, and Zuko's expression darkened with suspicion. Aang ignored it, and plunged right on with what he was saying anyways.

"Me and Sokka needed to pick up some stuff at home, so we're going to be late for next class, anyways. Don't worry about your bag, _Lee_; we'll drop it off at the house when we get there."

"Yeah," Sokka chimed in agreeably. He was turned towards Aang, so no one else could tell that the teenager's left eyebrow was raised so high it nearly disappeared into his hair line.

"You don't need to take my bag," said Zuko stiffly, even as Jin latched onto his arm wearing a look of pure happiness.

While Zuko was turned away, she cupped one hand around her lips and mouthed the words, '_Thank you!'_

"It's no big deal," said Aang, to both of them at the same time. "The house isn't too far from here, and you're coming over after school anyways, right?"

Aang could see the scarred boy weighing his options in his head. Leave all of his worldly possessions in Aang's hands, or hurt Jin's feelings.

"Right," said Zuko. "Thanks."

"See you after school, then!" Aang called pleasantly.

"I'm working after school, so I might be late getting in." Zuko ground out. "So don't expect me to _stay_ for dinner."

"Alright, then." Aang conceded. The confrontation wasn't guaranteed to go smoothly, but at least it was set. Zuko cast one last remorseful look at his bags before finally letting Jin lead him away.

Once they were safely out of hearing distance, Sokka practically exploded.

"Aang! What did you just do?! You heard what he said: it's dangerous for you to hang around with him!"

"I know," said Aang, apologetically.

Sokka took one look at his expression, and then sighed in defeat.

"You really want to help him, huh," he said, rhetorically. Aang nodded, even though he knew it wasn't necessary.

They both looked at Zuko's backpack. It really was huge, bulging with supplies and survival gear. It still looked a far too small to carry your whole life around in, his additional shopping bags not withstanding.

"Gran Gran is going to throw a fit when we show up half way through the school day," Sokka told him. "We'd better get our story straight before we get home."

* * *

(A/N): Holy cow that was a hard chapter to make. Everytime I started writing I ended up making something I couldn't even use yet. I want to drop an Azula-bomb on this little town so badly, but I CAN'T yet. It's driving me MAD.

Please review! It does wonders.


	12. Stage 10

Firestarter

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Gran Gran Kana was not angry at Aang and Sokka for coming home in the middle of the school day – she was furious that they hadn't arrived earlier.

"I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEAD IN A DITCH SOMEWHERE!" She exclaimed, appearing in the hallway as the two of them came through the front door. In the onslaught of lecturing that followed, Aang managed to gather that Kana had received two phone calls: one from the school informing her that the boys had gone missing, and another from Bato checking in to make sure that they'd made it home alright.

For all of her shouting, Kana seemed primarily concerned for Aang's well-being, leading him into the kitchen and checking his temperature even as she reprimanded Sokka for failing to bring him straight home. Aang felt a bit guilty, when he realized how worried she must have been.

"It wasn't Sokka's fault," he told her, "he took me to get something to eat because I haven't had anything today. He was trying to take care of me."

Kana's scolding ceased momentarily, but then her irritation resurfaced. "And just what were you two doing out of school anyways?" she demanded.

Sokka and Aang traded worried glances, knowing that this was the moment of truth. Doubtless, Sokka had a lie up his sleeve that he had prepared for exactly this question, but didn't use it, looking to Aang to decide whether or not they should tell the truth. Whether or not they should tell her what they were planning _now. _Certainly, their plan to aid Zuko couldn't move forward without her help.

It wasn't a responsibility that the younger boy was accustomed to, and he doubted himself. It suddenly occurred to him how little thought he had put into this plan, and how much could go wrong. He hadn't even stopped to consider whether or not Kana would approve of him inviting a stranger into her house, or if she even could if she was willing. Could the Arnaaluks legally take Zuko in without being accused of abduction? He wondered what sort of risk he was asking her to take. He was willing to risk his own safety for Zuko's sake, but what if the family was somehow targeted because of Aang's behaviour? How would she react?

He wanted to _bend _again; to reach out to her mind as he had with Zuko, but he resisted the urge. It was an irrational feeling, and he had no idea what would happen if he tried it.

Zuko would be back in the evening to retrieve his things. If he walked out, Aang had a feeling that it would be final.

He took a deep breath.

"Actually, we sort of needed to talk to you about that," he began. He could hear Sokka let out a sigh of resignation behind him.

Kana's frown remained fixed in place, but she was listening.

"There's this guy at school," he started.

"Lee," Sokka added, perhaps worried that Aang would let Zuko's real name slip, "he's in some of my classes."

"We found out he was homeless when – a while ago. He's been staying alone in a tent near the school."

"Today he didn't show up for school, so Aang and I went looking for him. It was my idea," Sokka confessed. "But while we were looking Aang had a fainting spell-"

"-passed out! But then we found Z-"

"-_Lee_ was at Bato's so we got a chance to talk to him anyways-"

"And then I stole his stuff and made him go on a date with Jin." Aang finished.

He wasn't facing Sokka, but the other boy slapped his forehead with such force that Aang could hear it.

"Aang!" his foster brother growled, "that doesn't make any sense!"

"Go back," Kana sighed, "and this time, no talking over each other."

The boys managed to construct a more sensible story the second time around. They had agreed on how much they would reveal on the walk home, so it was simply a matter of delegating who would say what, when. When they finished, Kana breathed a long, deep sigh, and remained silent for several minutes. Aang had the sense that she had already made up her mind about what to do, but was drawing things out just to keep up the suspense.

"So," she said, pausing just long enough after she said it to let the boys know that she was not pleased, "this young man doesn't seem to have a place to live, and you want to convince him to stay here when he comes to visit this evening."

Both boys nodded, and she frowned.

"So you knew that Lee was living alone before this, but you failed to mention it to me, or any other adult who might have been able to help," she summarized.

"Err, well-" Sokka began, but before he was finished Kana intervened.

"Not only that," she continued, "but you confronted him alone. And brought _Aang _along with you."

Aang didn't like the tone of her voice, the way she talked about him as if he wasn't standing right there. As if he weren't old enough to have made his own decision on the matter. Even so, he held his silence and hung his head. She had taken him in, after all.

When neither boy answered her, Kana let out a long, disappointed sigh.

"How old is this boy?" she asked.

"Sixteen," Sokka responded, quietly.

"Well then," she said, returning to her usual, business-like attitude, "he's old enough to decide for himself whether or not he wants to stay. You had better set up the spare cot and clean out the attic – not you Aang, you're going to sit down and take it easy for the rest of the afternoon - it would be a fine thing to invite him to stay and then have no where to put him if he agrees."

"But-" Sokka began, having obviously braced himself for the worst. "Wait, you're not mad?"

"Of course I'm mad at you," the elderly woman stated curtly. "But I'm not going to turn away that poor boy because of something _you _did! I wouldn't have signed up for emergency foster care if I was the sort of woman who would turn someone like that away; I was a runaway once myself, you know."

She bustled out of the room in a manner that suggested that she was going to prepare for their guest, and Aang and Sokka were left to gawk after her in surprise.

"I didn't know your Gran Gran was a runaway," Aang said.

Sokka merely shrugged, obviously mystified by the whole thing.

* * *

Aang didn't know much about Kana's history before her arrival in Omashu. He had picked up on quite a bit of that story though, and had learned quite a bit from Sokka and Katara, mostly by asking them about their house.

Kana had first come to Omashu shortly after marrying her late husband. With both their salaries put together, they had been able to afford a mortgage on a small cottage on the outside of town. Back then, the house had been a death trap, but Kana had still recognized it as the place where she wanted to spend the rest of her life. Over the years of Kana's marriage, the house had slowly expanded to fill the property it occupied. Her husband, a skilled carpenter, had built several additions to the main floor, and he had left signs of his presence in the very woodwork of the building. The house was his legacy; everything in it was the product of hand-crafted care. It meant the world to her.

Once, Aang had worked up the nerve to ask why Kana's house had so many bedrooms. He had gathered from what he had heard that Hakoda had moved back into the house with his children under rather unexpected circumstances, and wondered how she and her husband had known that they would need so much space. She had taken on a distant look then, and told him that she had been expecting more children back when her husband was still alive. Aang hadn't pried again.

The attic was one of the original rooms in the house, and had once functioned as the tiny building's primary storage area. It could only be accessed by a ladder, which folded up into a trap door in the ceiling to conserve space. These days it was mostly empty, aside from a few boxes and chests in one corner of the room.

Aang went along with Sokka to help set everything up, despite Kana's instructions to the contrary. He felt that it was his responsibility, as he had instigated negotiations with Zuko and convinced Sokka to cooperate with his plans so far.

Despite the narrow entry way and slanted ceilings, the room itself was surprisingly large, and mostly empty. A wide sky light in the ceiling contributed to the sense of space in the room, and assuaged Aang's concern about how Zuko would take the room's bottle neck entryway. The roof was too high to jump down from, but there was no reason that a ladder couldn't be left against the out wall or stored in Zuko's room for emergencies.

_In case of fire,_ Aang thought, already plotting how he would rationalize the arrangement to Kana and Hakoda.

The room didn't require much in the way of set up, as Kana kept it relatively clean so that it would be ready for unexpected guests. There was a foldable, twin sized cot already set up in one corner of the room, with a thin mattress on top. It was hardly glamorous, but Aang knew that it was probably much more comfortable than what Zuko was accustomed to sleeping on.

Between the two of them, Aang and Sokka had a clean duvet, pillows and fresh sheets set up in no time. Sokka brought up an old lamp, as well as piece of patio furniture from shed outside: a slated wooden side table that he placed next to the bed. They also decided to clear out the small chest underneath the skylight, moving the old clothes downstairs and storing them underneath Kana's bed. It would be nice to give Zuko somewhere to keep his things, even if he didn't have much to put there.

Provided that Zuko decided to stay.

The two boys discussed what they were going to do when Zuko arrived that evening at great length. Sokka wanted to put Zuko's bag in the attic, and tell the boy that if he wanted it he would have to come inside and get it, but Aang disagreed, insisting that they leave his things in the front hallway.

"I just don't like the idea of forcing Zuko into a small room he can't get out of. Especially one that's so…" he wracked his brains, trying to pinpoint the source of his discomfort. "Wooden."

"Who's Zuko?"

Aang jumped, and he and Sokka turned to see Katara's head poking out from the trap door in the floor.

"Cartoon character," Sokka answered, without missing a beat.

Katara rolled her eyes. "You're too old for that stuff, Sokka."

"Never!" Sokka exclaimed, in mock horror.

"So, what are you guys doing up here?" Katara asked. "I saw the ladder down so I came to see what you were up to. Is someone coming?"

"Kind of," Aang answered. "You know Lee from school?"

Katara's pretty blue eyes narrowed in distaste immediately.

"What about him?" she said.

Seeing her obvious displeasure, Aang realized that, while he had been agonizing over what Kana and Hakoda would think of his idea to bring Zuko into the house, he hadn't stopped to consider Katara's feelings about it. It was an odd thought, because most of the time when Aang made plans, he took what Katara would think into account before anything else.

"We kind of talked to him this afternoon, and convinced him to come over this evening and… well, I want to try to convince him to move in here again. Your Gran Gran said it was okay so we set up the room, just in case."

"Aang, this isn't like taking in someone in a foster care program. Sometimes new kids move in and things don't work out, but with Lee we don't have anywhere to send him if things don't go well…" Katara frowned, worried. "Not to mention the fact that we barely know anything about this guy. What if her turns out to be dangerous? I just… I don't trust him. Something is off about that guy."

Katara was right, of course. Now that he thought about it, Aang realized that Katara had been on to Zuko all along. She'd been the first person to notice that there was something unnatural about him, and he and Sokka had brushed her off when she had shared her suspicions with them.

Aang wanted to tell her everything, to reassure her that she had been right all along. She had been there for him ever since he had come to live with the Arnaaluks, and he trusted her implicitly to believe him and guard his secrets. More than that, he wanted to share his newfound ability with her. He suddenly had this incredible new knowledge about himself, and he desperately wanted to include her in his new discovery.

But he couldn't. Revealing that he was a bender would almost certainly mean giving away Zuko's identity, and he didn't want to betray the paranoid boy's trust, even though he knew that Katara wouldn't turn her back on him if Aang asked her not to.

"This is going to work," Aang reassured her. "He's not a bad person, and I know he seems suspicious but he needs help!"

Katara clambered into the attic and came over to sit next to Aang and Sokka on the cot, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"I know you want it to work. I know that you feel like you can relate to this guy and what he's going through, but we don't know for sure what's going on. I just don't want to see you get hurt if he doesn't turn out to be the person you think he is."

"I know," Aang smiled at her. "It's okay, I'll be careful, but I have to try."

"Okay." Katara attempted to return his smile, but he could tell that she was worried just the same.

* * *

Zuko had warned that he wouldn't come over until late, so Aang spent most of the afternoon fretting over when he would get there. Sokka told him that he was fairly certain that the other boy worked at a restaurant, so there was no telling how long his hours would be.

Kana made extra dinner anyways, just to be on the safe side.

"It's just spaghetti," she told Aang, while he was setting the table for her, "it'll keep in the fridge if he doesn't show up, and if he hasn't had dinner when he gets here he can heat it up in the microwave."

The soft sound of the front door's weather strip coming apart as someone entered the house was nearly enough to cause Aang to drop the plates he was carrying, but then he remembered that it was about the time that Hakoda usually got home from the police station. Before he had a chance to relax, though, he heard Katara shriek from somewhere in the hallway.

"YOU!" she shouted.

Aang charged out of the kitchen just in time to see Zuko freeze in the middle of a very large step forward, crouched low in the front hallway with one hand wrapped around the strap of his portaging pack. He looked like he had been tiptoeing.

Katara came hurtling down the stairs from the floor above, gripping a cheap decorative vase from the second floor in her hands as if it were a club.

"Thief!" she hollered, "I can't believe this!"

"Katara wait!" Sokka's pleading voice followed her down the stairs from the top of the steps.

Zuko had hefted the heavy bag up into his arms, and whirled around, but instead of cheesing it out the front door he yelped out a startled curse word and started backing up in the other direction. Hakoda appeared in the door frame, still dressed in his full police uniform, and before the scarred boy could scamper out of the way, the man's hand clapped down on his shoulder in a firm, professional gesture.

"Get off me!" Zuko exclaimed, nearly falling over backwards in an attempt to move away. Hakoda would have nothing of it, and held steady.

"Sit still," he told the uncooperative boy authoritatively. "Now does someone want to tell me exactly what's going on here?"

From where he was standing he couldn't see Zuko's face, but Aang knew that the older boy was freaking out. It hadn't occurred to him to warn Zuko that Hakoda was a police officer.

"It's okay!" Aang called out.

Zuko turned as much as he could with Hakoda holding him in place. Aang expected him to look frightened, but he had assumed wrong. Zuko's good eye was wide with pure fury, his lips pulled back into a half-snarl.

"You _traitor,_" he spat.

Aang felt the force of the other bender's anger ripple outwards through the air, as the temperature suddenly started climbing. Hakoda jerked away from Zuko as if his hand had been scalded.

"I trusted you!"

"It's not like that!" Aang tried to reason, "Just _listen!_"

He had to throw his hands up to shield himself as the ceiling light cracked and burst overhead, blooming with red flames. Aang heard a loud, metallic crash behind him, and Kana cried out in distress.

"Gran Gran!" Katara pushed past Aang to get into the kitchen, but Aang's attention was still fixed on the raging teenager in front of him.

"The hell is going on?!" Hakoda demanded.

"Zuko, back off!" Aang shouted, "You've got to stop!"

Zuko wasn't listening anymore. He wasn't even looking at Aang. The scarred boy was bent forward with both of his hands on one of the walls, leaning against it so heavily Aang thought for a moment that he might be trying to push it over. His face was twisted in an expression of anguish and his lips were moving silently, forming the same words over and over again; all the while, the temperature of the room was still climbing.

"Zuko!" Aang shouted again, uselessly, afraid to move forward to touch him. "Zuko, back off!"

But it was no use. Zuko was losing control.

* * *

Edit: Added in page breaks.

(A/N): Big thank you to Sev7n, for making the exploding lightbulbs possible, and to everyone who reviewed, faved, alerted and sent private messages. As for the rest of you: Dooooo eeet.


	13. Stage 11

(A/N): Hi guys. Sorry this took so long. Three jobs.

As always, a big thank you to Sev7n, the coolest beta ever. I'd also like to say thanks to everyone who contacted me or added me to their favs and alerts. You guys don't know how much it helps to keep me motivated and excited to write!

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Aang felt as if he were standing in front of a blazing fire – but the heat was radiating from Zuko. The teenager appeared harmless, now crouching against the wall with his head between his hands. Calling out to him had already proven useless; Zuko was unresponsive.

"What's happening to him?" Hakoda demanded.

Usually Hakoda appeared completely self-assured, even in the direst circumstances, but for once, he appeared to be looking to the children for answers. It was the first time Aang had ever seen him that way. Of course, there was no way that Hakoda could possibly understand what was going on.

"I don't know," Aang said truthfully.

"Can't you find out?" Sokka asked, drawing up beside Aang. "You found out about all of that other stuff and made him calm down before. Can't you just… do your Vulcan mind-meldy thing again?"

"Mind-melding?!" Katara's shrill voice cut across the conversation, and the pretty girl emerged from the kitchen with a large red fire extinguisher gripped in both hands in a manner that suggested she was prepared to use it on someone. The fire alarm in the kitchen sounded behind her, as if to announce her entrance. "I'm catching burglars and fighting house fires and you guys are still talking about cartoons? And what is going on with the thermostat? What's wrong with _him?_"

"_Vulcans _aren- forget it," Sokka thought better of correcting his sister and turned back to Aang. "Well? Can you do it?"

"This is different," Aang told Sokka, "I can't get close to him."

"Are you sure you _need_ to be close to him? I mean Zuko wasn't touching the light up there…" his foster brother gestured to the blackened remains of the light fixture on the ceiling.

"Zuko? Who… do you mean _Lee_ did this? Then the stove…"

A sharp _bang_ issued from the floor above and the light that had been left on in the upstairs hallway abruptly flared and went out.

"I've got it!" Katara shouted, brandishing her fire extinguisher and charging up the stairs.

"See?" Sokka seemed to feel that his point had been proven.

"I don't know what's going to happen if I try…" Aang protested, looking at Zuko with trepidation. The other boy's body had started to give off steam, as if his blood and sweat had boiled under his skin and evaporated through his pores.

"I have no idea what either of you are talking about," Hakoda stated, "but I'm starting to think that this kid is going to bring the whole building down if we don't do something. If you two have an idea, I'm all for it."

There was no denying the fact that Aang _wanted _to try bending again. His last experience had been frightening but, in a way, it had also been exhilarating to discover how easily he could control Zuko's actions just by knowing a bit about his past. Right now he didn't understand anything, and he found himself craving the understanding that Zuko's memories might give him.

He tried to recall what it had been like to bend in _Kuruk's_, and focused his attention entirely on Zuko. It wasn't difficult, considering what a spectacle the teenager was making of himself, muttering incomprehensibly and rocking back and forth on the floor. Aang remembered physically reaching out to him when he had connected their minds before, but this time he would certainly be burned if he got any closer.

Sokka stood close to Aang, prepared to catch him, but this time Aang didn't fall. He was still aware of where he was, physically, standing in the Arnaaluk's foyer, even as another part of his consciousness left his body, uninhibited by the heat radiating off of Zuko's huddled form.

And then he was Zuko.

* * *

_...His father had never looked at him the same way, not after that day, long after the burns had healed and he no longer needed to wear those bandages on his hands. Mom said she knew it was an accident, and told him that his father would forgive him, but Zuko knew that it was his fault. Never, never again… He had promised her. _

_But now…_

_**If I ever die…**_ _**If they ever catch you…**_

_The man who came into Zuko's room was one of three who usually escorted him to his various daily appointments. He always came in before the other two. It seemed like he made a point to stand out from them, almost as if they all collaborated to make him seem more appealing and friendly. As usual, he was smiling brilliantly, and the other two who followed him in were stoic. Good cop, bad cop. Like in the movies._

_Zuko hated the ones who tried to play nice. He was only seven, but he knew that if anyone who knew what went on in this facility could look him in the eye and smile, they weren't to be trusted. _

"_Hey kid," he said, behaving as if neither of them knew that he had a small handgun hidden underneath his jacket, "how're you doing?" _

_Zuko smiled back, as he was expected to. "Did you bring me anything?" he asked._

_The friendly man laughed. "Not yet kiddo," he said. "Today we have some really important tests to do. But if you do a good job I'm sure Long Feng will give you and your sister anything you ask for." _

_Zuko already knew about this. Since he had begun to cooperate with Dr. Long Feng, he had learned quite a bit about the facility that he was being held in. The doctor had begun to trust him, in a sense, and he had made no secret about the fact it was an important day for him. The directors were coming to view Zuko and Azula's progress for themselves. _

_Allowing the three men to lead him along the hallways, Zuko wondered where they would be watching from. _

_**You promise me one thing.**_

_They didn't lead him to the room where he usually did his tests in the afternoons. Instead, they brought him to an area of the building that Zuko had never seen before. Long Feng was waiting by one of the doors for them, and beamed when he saw Zuko approaching. _

_Zuko knew that he did not want to go into that room. The whole place would undoubtedly be fire-proofed, and the directors would be shielded from him, and he would undoubtedly lose his chance… _

_His chance at what? Moments ago, he hadn't even realized that he had been waiting, but he had been waiting for this, without knowing it. _

_**Burn them. Burn them all.**_

_He was vaguely aware of Long Feng screaming as his white coat went up in flames, but only vaguely. There was a strange pleasure in finally burning it down, the building that had been his prison for so long. He forgot to worry for his own safety. He should have fled the building, but he couldn't, not until they were all burned, every one of them. The command… _

_**Burn them all. Burn them all. Burn them all!**_

…_shook him, right down to his bones, drove him to keep burning, burning. He didn't react when Long Feng lunged towards him, still burning, at first he didn't even feel the pain…_

* * *

Aang felt a cold, burning sensation strike him full in the face, and snapped awake. He was still standing in front hallway, and it took him a moment to realize that he was perfectly fine. Zuko, on the other hand, was not faring nearly so well. Apparently having decided to target the source of the flames, Katara was using the fire extinguisher on Zuko, sweeping the nozzle from side to side at a low angle to fill the hallway with a fine, white cloud of powder.

Aang couldn't see much through the white mist, but he could make out Hakoda hauling the coughing teenager to his feet and taking him out on the front porch.

"Well," Sokka said. "That woke him up."

Satisfied with a job well done, Katara set down her fire extinguisher and marched over to where the boys were standing.

"Are you okay, Aang?" she asked sweetly.

"Um, yeah!" he answered quickly, despite the fact that he still felt shaken. He glanced over her shoulder at the front door. "Is he…"

"It's just baking soda," she said dismissively, "he'll be fine."

"Still," Sokka said, obviously caught between amusement and sympathy, "you did use it pretty close to his face."

Katara shrugged. "Well, maybe he'll think twice next time he wants to steal anything in my house!"

"That was his stuff." Sokka informed her, looking put out.

"Oh." Katara looked mildly embarrassed by her brother's revelation. "Well then."

Aang felt sorry for Zuko, but he knew that it was probably a lucky thing that Katara had intervened. There was no way of knowing what would have happened if he had remained connected to Zuko's mind any longer.

_Burn them._

The voice still boomed in Aang's mind. He could hear the quality of it; deep, masculine, and frighteningly compelling. The words had held power over Zuko, but Aang couldn't figure out exactly how. He wasn't even sure if Zuko had actually heard them, or if the whole thing had taken place in the other boy's imagination.

Zuko had been muttering something to himself when he had started to break down. Aang suddenly realized, with chilling certainty, what the teenager had been saying.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Katara asked, looking at Aang with concern.

Before he could answer, Hakoda stomped back into the house with Zuko in tow. Aang had never seen the scarred boy in a good mood before, but Zuko looked exceptionally miserable now. He was coated from head to toe in fine white powder. Although he had managed to get most of it off of his face, his usually fair skin was now a bright, painful-looking shade of red.

Aang thought that Katara was going to say something, but her expression became stubborn and she remained silent.

Zuko looked at his shoes. "I…" he started, voice slightly hoarse, "I probably deserved that."

He made such a tragic picture that Aang almost wanted to reassure him that it wasn't his fault. Almost. The image of a man in a white coat, screaming as he burned to death, made it hard to believe that Zuko was truly innocent.

"Good gracious, it looks like a bomb went off out here."

Everyone turned to look at Kana, standing in the entrance of the kitchen with her mouth pressed into a thin, wrinkly line. She looked like she had been through an explosion herself; her floral print apron was spattered with tomato sauce and she carried a towel in her hand that had been stained completely red. Her eyes widened when they set on Zuko.

"You're completely filthy," she told him. "The bathroom is down the hallway, to your left. Go get cleaned up. Sokka, get this boy a clean change of clothing."

"Ok, Gran, I'm going," Sokka grumbled.

"Honestly," she said, switching her attention to Katara, "playing with the fire extinguisher! I thought I'd raised you better than that. We're having Chinese tonight, go find that phone number for me."

"Yes, Gran-Gran,"

"And _you_," the elderly woman jabbed her finger at Hakoda, "are going to take a look at that stove! The burner just _exploded_ a moment ago – sent my good pot _flying_ across the room – nearly lost my arm…"

"Coming, mum."

As the Arnaaluks all cleared out to complete their various assignments, Aang was left standing in the hallway with Zuko. The teenager gave his backpack one last, long mournful gaze before turning to Aang, looking away, and then finally slinking off to the bathroom as he had been told to, obviously feeling too exhausted and sorry for himself to think of any alternative course of action.

(A/N): This writer is fueled by reviews.


	14. Stage 12

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Zuko stayed in the bathroom for a very long time. Aang didn't know if the older boy was afraid to face the Arnaaluks or if he was simply savouring the opportunity to use a proper shower, but decided not to think about it. He just wanted to be as far away from Zuko as possible; the longer the teenager stayed away, the more time Aang had to think.

The realization of how much confidence he had been willing to invest in this total stranger – this murderer – made Aang feel physically sick with discomfort. After his first vision, he had thought that he understood everything there was to know about the other boy. The revelation that he and Zuko shared some sort of power that no one else did had only served to reinforce this notion. Now he had discovered that his ability was unreliable.

Aang didn't have much time to brood before Katara joined him in the living room, taking a seat by his side on the couch.

"I knew there was something weird about him," she said, "but that… what happened back there? It's like everything hot in the house just overloaded."

"I don't think he meant to hurt anybody," said Aang. His defence no longer held the conviction that he had felt earlier in the afternoon, though. "I…"

Aang lost his train of thought completely and trailed off, feeling an unexpected sense of vertigo. If he hadn't been sitting down, he probably would have collapsed.

_He's dangerous. Katara decided, remembering the time that she had bumped into Zuko in the hallway. He had only clipped her shoulder, but his warmth had passed through her clothing so palpably that she might not have been wearing any. The contact had been unwanted, and it had left her feeling exposed, vulnerable. There was something unstable and dangerous about him that she couldn't place. She had found herself unable to break eye contact, her gaze locked on his hideous deformity, his contemptuous yellow eyes. _

_And now that she thought about it, Zuko bore an uncanny resemblance to the main character in that movie about werewolves that Sokka had forced her to watch the other night. It was those crazy yellow eyes. _

_She probably wouldn't have watched the whole thing if the actor hadn't been shirtless for a good three quarters of the film. _

_For a fleeting instant, the mental image of Zuko, bare-chested and surrounded by a pack of wild dogs, sprang up inside her head. She decided not to over-analyze it. It was disquieting, and it was easier to concentrate on being angry. _

"Aang?"

Aang shook himself.

"Sorry, what?"

"You were going to say something?"

"Uh," Aang scrambled to gather his thoughts, but his mind was careening off in all directions. He had _seen_ Katara's thoughts. He had _felt_ Katara's feelings. The whole thing had been disorienting and completely involuntarily and he really hoped that Katara didn't find Zuko attractive in any way, shape or form. The revelation that Katara had been watching _Howl at the Moon_ for the shirtless boys was devastating on its own.

"It's okay," said Katara, oblivious to the turmoil in Aang's mind, "I was pretty freaked out too. I mean, who would have thought -"

"It's not that," Aang said quickly, remembering what they had been talking about at latching onto his first chance to say something, "I knew before he got here…"

Katara gave him a surprised, questioning look, and Aang felt guilty immediately. He had been perfectly aware of the fact that Zuko was dangerous, and yet he had brought the scarred boy into her home, without a word of warning.

"Yeah," Sokka said, wandering into the room and leaning over the back of the couch to get in on the conversation, "we were kind of going to let him tell it, buuuuuuuuut…" he gave an exaggerated shrug.

Hakoda followed his son into the room, looking unhappy. Aang guessed that his examination of the stove had been inconclusive.

"What I want to know is why your friend doesn't like police officers," he said gruffly.

_Hakoda couldn't help the niggling thought that he should know this, somehow. He__hated_ _worrying that he had forgotten something, even though there hadn't been any problems since that one incident…_

This time Aang didn't have to shake himself awake; he found himself forced back into the present almost as if Hakoda's mind had closed itself to him. It felt like the older man's mind had just gone blank.

"Why indeed? I can't imagine any scenario whatsoever in which a child living on the streets might find themselves on the wrong side of the law." The elderly woman rolled her eyes at what she perceived as her son's ignorance, having missed the entire incident in the hallway.

"What?" Hakoda seemed surprised by this new information. "Living on which street? Who is this kid again, exactly?"

"Yeah, Aang!" Sokka exclaimed, as if just remembering something, "Did you, you know, _see_ anything?"

Everyone looked at him questioningly. Sokka was the only member of the household who really knew what Aang had been trying to do, and he wasn't sure if he was ready to explain himself to them.

"I… no, I didn't see anything," he lied. "Anyways, I think we should wait for Zuko to tell us what happened himself. I don't really know that much and I don't feel right about talking behind his back."

"Zuko?"

"I mean… Lee... his name..."

It had been more than he had meant to reveal. He knew that the Arnaaluk's were trustworthy, but Zuko didn't, and if he found out that Aang had given away more of his secrets then he would probably get angry. Possibly angry enough to do something about it.

Hakoda was very still, and he was giving Aang a strange look. It wasn't exactly suspicious, but something else, knowing, perhaps.

"The hallway is a disaster," Kana announced, walking in on the discussion. "You really need to have a talk with your children, Hakoda."

"Why am I only the head of the household when – you know what, nevermind," Hakoda sighed heavily. "In fact, I think you're right. After dinner, the kids and I _are_ going to have a talk and they're going to _explain themselves."_

It was a promise, there was no question of that. Aang wondered how Zuko would take it, but then, he supposed that Katara could just blast him with the fire extinguisher again if it started to look like he was going to have another episode.

_Jin checked her reflection in the front door window one last time. Makeup? Check. Hair? Check. Order? Still in the car. _

_She would have slapped her forehead, but she was wary of tampering with her fringe now that she finally had it exactly right. She felt like such a dork. After all, Lee probably wasn't even there yet. _

_Still, since it had turned out that Lee wasn't working that evening after all, it was possible that he had decided to go early…_

"I'll get the door!" Aang said without thinking, disoriented by the sudden change in perspectives. He all but leapt over the back of the couch to escape the stares he was getting, heart jumping against his ribs as he retreated into the front hall.

_My name is Aang, _he told himself. It helped somewhat. _My name is Aang,_ he repeated in his head.

He had calmed down by the time he reached the door, and the bell sounded just as he turned the handle.

Jin stood in the doorway, clad in her delivery uniform, clutching a large paper bag to her chest as if it were a security blanket. She seemed to relax when she caught sight of him, recognizing him from before

"Oh, hi!" she beamed. "Uh…"

"Lee's in the bathroom," Aang supplied.

"Oh. Is… is he going to be in there long?" Her voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"He's in the shower," Aang told her. At Jin's deflated look, he also added: "but I'll tell him you stopped by."

"No! I mean, that's okay." _She didn't want to look too desperate, it was probably better if he didn't know. It was a stupid idea-_

_-my name is Aang,_ he reminded himself forcefully. He was starting to feel dizzy.

Jin handed him the bag she had been carrying, and Aang accepted it, only to realize that he didn't have any money to give her in return.

Sokka came to his rescue with a fist full of bills, telling Jin not to worry about the change. The smitten girl thanked him for the tip, but it was clear that she was disappointed that the object of her affections had not shown himself.

_Sokka watched her go, and shut the door after her, turning his attention to Aang. The kid's hands were shaking. Now that he thought about it, something had seemed off ever since Aang had tried to read Zuko's mind earlier. Sokka felt stupid for not realizing it sooner. He needed to talk to Aang alone and find out what was really going on…_

"I don't want to talk about it right now Sokka," Aang said. Sokka opened his mouth to protest, but Aang cut him off. "I'm sorry, I don't feel very well. I need to lie down for a while."

"Is something wrong?"

Aang nodded his head mutely. He felt like he was going to throw up.

"Is it… is it happening because you tried to bend?" The older boy dropped his voice to a low whisper.

"Maybe. I'm not sure. But ever since I tried, I haven't been able to stop. I keep seeing what other people are thinking by accident."

_Sokka's stomach sank. Aang had only tried to read Zuko's mind at his insistence. If something was wrong with him…_

"I'll be okay." Aang said firmly, not really knowing if it was true. "I just need to be by myself for a while, I think."

"I can help."

Zuko stood in the hallway, hair still wet, now dressed in a large cozy looking blue sweater and a pair of jeans (which fit him quite a bit better than they did Sokka). Nearly his whole face had taken on the same, angry red colouration of his scar, sore and chapped looking. He probably had a cold burn.

Aang regarded him dubiously. The idea of asking Zuko to help him control his abilities hardly seemed wise, but it wasn't as if there were many options open to him.

"How?"

Zuko glanced towards the stairs. "Where can we talk?"

* * *

They sat across from one another, Aang seated on his own bed and Zuko sitting cross legged on Sokka's mattress. Sokka was absent, he had remained downstairs to explain to the rest of the family that Zuko and Aang were talking and would be down shortly to explain everything. They had all decided not to mention Aang's abilities. Aang wasn't ready to talk about it, and Zuko was of the opinion that they less the family knew, the safer they, and Aang, would be.

"You'll have to sit for a while, so make sure you're in a comfortable position," Zuko instructed. He waited a moment, and then continued when Aang didn't move. "This is something my dad taught me and my sister to do when we were little… it will probably work for you too."

"Hey, that's right, what happened with your sister anyways?" Aang inquired.

"Concentrate," Zuko dismissed the question. "Bending is something that you do with your mind. If you want to control it, you need to discipline your thoughts. You can do that by meditating."

"So… I need to clear my thoughts and breathe and stuff?"

"No," answered Zuko emphatically, "well, the breathing part is okay, but you don't want to clear your mind. That would be bad. If you try to think about nothing, your mind will probably start to wander. That's the opposite of what you want."

"Oh."

"Try thinking about one thing and nothing else... kind of picture it in your mind and focus on it. Something simple."

Aang found his eyes roving the room in search of inspiration, and settled on a mug with a couple of pens in it sitting on his desk. It seemed like a fairly simple object.

He closed his eyes and envisioned the white porcelain cup. Then added the handle. The words: "Secure, Professional," were printed across the front, and so he added them, in bold black print. And it wasn't helping. He couldn't see Zuko, and while he wasn't reading the scarred teen's thoughts, Aang felt even more aware of his bristling, conflicted thoughts than before. He could sense the Arnaaluks as well on the floor below, full of nervous energy.

"Aren't you going to meditate?" He asked finally, without opening his eyes.

"I already did," Zuko told him. "In the bathroom."

"Oh." Aang wasn't sure how to respond to that, so he tried to change the subject. "What do you usually think about when you meditate?"

"A sandwich. You're not even trying."

Aang sighed, and tried to return to his meditation, but then Zuko's words caught up with him and he found himself unable to resist turning to stare at Zuko. The older boy didn't look like he had been kidding. "A sandwich?"

"I happen to like sandwiches," Zuko responded tersely, "Now focus. If you can't manage a simple exercise…"

"I am trying!" Aang protested, and then he sat up straighter and shut his eyes to prove his point. It only made things worse. The moment he closed his eyes, he found his mind going in all directions. Downstairs where Sokka was setting out plates and, Katara was pacing, and Hakoda was trying to remember something again, and then back up the stairs to where Zuko was wondering if he should tell Aang – "Hey!"

Zuko seemed started by Aang's accusing tone. "What?" he said.

"You're not telling me everything."

"I – well, no, but I don't think it will help," Zuko grumbled, seeming to realize that it would be useless to deny anything. "Sometimes I picture… my mom. And other people. But only when they're not around because otherwise they could, like, burst into flames, or something. I don't think that would be a good idea for you, since your abilities… are kind of people-oriented."

"Right," said Aang. It made sense. The last time he had focused too much on someone else he had ended up watching Zuko burn someone alive. The recollection made his stomach lurch unpleasantly, so he tried to push it to the back of his mind.

But people who weren't there… almost unconsciously, Aang's mind leapt to Gyatso. Where was he now? What was he doing?

And suddenly things seemed… quieter.

Reacting on instinct, Aang centred his thoughts on his old guardian. The image formed in his mind easily, he could picture the old man's kind, hooded grey eyes, his shaven head, and his wrinkled mouth, half hidden behind a bushy white moustache. The memory anchored him. Gyatso was a part of his life, a part of who he was.

And he was Aang again.

* * *

(A/N): Zuko's Sifu-ness got the best of him this chapter. Is it too early?

For the record, Katara doesn't like Aang or Zuko. She's got a crush on some Canadian guy on the IFC channel. He was in this movie with no budget about a guy who gets surgery to save his sight and ends up with wolf eyes that give him the power to win bar fights. What the hell was that movie called?

I enjoyed getting away from Aang, if only for a little while at a time. What do you think?

Many thanks to Sev7n, as well as everyone who reviewed and commented. Getting reviews has saved a few days that would have been pretty crumby otherwise - I really can't tell you how much I appreciate it!

* * *


	15. Stage 13

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Aang opened his eyes. It wasn't at all like waking up from a daydream. He felt awake. His mind was grounded, his thoughts were clear.

Zuko was sitting in silence with his legs folded underneath him, quiet and still. He appeared to be meditating, but his posture was still tense, his brow furrowed with worry. Aang decided against disturbing him. Instead, he stretched his legs out carefully, wincing as a painful prickling sensation shot up and down his muscles. He hadn't thought that he'd been sitting that long.

Despite how hard Aang had been trying to stay silent, Zuko's eyes snapped open.

"Did that help?" He asked, not missing a beat.

"Yeah!" Aang grinned. "You're a good teacher!"

After feeling so sick such a short time ago, the sense of wellness that he was experiencing was almost enough to make him giddy. He hadn't forgotten his vision and part of him still questioned Zuko's true nature, but most of his fear from before had dissipated. He was in control, and if Zuko had any intention of hurting him he would have done so already. By taking his things and forcing him into a confrontation with the Arnaaluks, Aang had given the young fugitive every reason to be angry, but Zuko was being cooperative and helpful, now.

"You're a good student," Zuko conceded, slipping a little out of his usual character, "I could hardly stay still for five minutes when I was your age, let alone the first time I tried."

Aang checked the clock on his desk, and realized that he had to have been meditating for fifteen minutes, if not more. The time had seemed much shorter. Torn between being impressed with himself and being concerned, the young boy made a mental note to either set an alarm clock or ask Sokka to supervise him the next time he decided to meditate. If he didn't, he might end up spacing out all day.

"Guys?" Sokka's muffled voice came through the bedroom door, slightly higher than usual. "Everyone is asking me questions I don't know how to answer!"

"Oh yeah!" Aang bounced over to the doorway and swung it open. "Supper!"

Sokka blinked, evidently surprised to see Aang in such good spirits.

"Well, that was an effective talk," he commented wryly.

"I meditated," Aang told Sokka, "and I think I'm going to become a Buddhist, since I'm so good at it and I'm eating their food already. Are there any chicken balls left?"

"I don't think Buddhists get to eat chicken balls, Aang. They're vegetarians…" Sokka paused, and the expression on his face told Aang that he was plotting something. "You know what, that's a great idea. You become a Buddhist!"

"You just want my share," Aang accused, seeing through his foster brother's tactics. He was slightly disappointed to have his plans thwarted so quickly, but he didn't let it dampen his enthusiasm. "Well, it's still _Chinese_ food. That's close enough."

"Not really." Zuko sighed. He sounded disheartened, and it reminded Aang that scarred boy had wanted to avoid the Chinese food place at lunchtime.

The three boys filed out of the room, with Zuko dragging his feet at the back of the line. Aang knew he was dreading the encounter to come, but didn't know what to say to him.

Sokka stopped suddenly, before they reached the stairs.

"I don't know if Aang told you," he began, addressing Zuko. "But dad doesn't want us to say anything in front of Gran-Gran. I mean, he didn't say it, exactly, but I know that's what he meant. She'll think we're all crazy if we start talking about you being all flaming and stuff at the dinner table."

"Can we not use the word 'flaming'? I prefer the term _bender,_" Zuko said, his voice clipped.

Sokka clapped Zuko on the shoulder and leaned in with an expression of mock sympathy on his face.

"I hate to break it to you, pal, but you can't win. I looked up the word 'bender' on the internet. Guess what it means in England?"

Zuko didn't respond to Sokka's announcement, instead choosing to charge ahead of the other two boys and down the stairs. Katara was waiting in the hallway, positioned in front of the door with her fire extinguisher gripped tightly in one hand, and doing her best to look nonchalant about it. For a moment, Aang thought that Zuko had had enough, but instead of trying to push past her an escape the house he simply gave the pretty girl a level, disapproving stare and then marched into the kitchen. It was impressive how superior he managed to look, even when he was clearly exhausted and his face was discoloured and chapped. Aang and Sokka followed close behind.

An extra leaf had been added to the kitchen table, and someone had brought in one of the large cushioned chairs from the dining room for Zuko to use. Seeming to recognize that it was the odd one out, Zuko plunked down onto it without bothering to ask where he should sit. As the rest of the family settled down around the table, the mismatched chair only served to intensify the scarred boy's out of place appearance. Next to him, Aang seemed to blend in with the Inuit family flawlessly

Kana, who had been doling out fried rice onto each of the plates, (she knew better than to allow the men of the family to make their own portions) paused in what she was doing to give Zuko a proper look up and down, and nodded to him. Zuko nodded back.

At first, Aang had been certain that everything would go wrong. The tension in the room was high, and the children had to keep their silence until Hakoda could speak to them alone after dinner. The fact that Katara had tucked her fire extinguisher under the table, where it would be within quick reach, probably wasn't doing much to sooth anyone's already frayed nerves, either.

Seeing that no one else was willing to take the lead, Kana took it upon herself to strike up a conversation.

"Aang," she started, "aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?"

Realizing that he hadn't formally introduced Zuko to the family yet, Aang paused. He wasn't sure which name he should use. Almost everything was out in the open at this point anyways.

"This is Lee," he told Kana, deciding that it would best to go with Zuko's alias for the time being.

"It's nice to meet you," said Zuko, formally. I'm sorry about the mess in your hall.

"There's no need to apologize," Kana told him. "As I'm certain that you'll be helping to clean it up."

Zuko made a non-committal sound, but didn't object.

"Now," Kana continued, unconcerned by his lack of response, "the boys tell me you've been living in a tent."

Aang expected that things would go downhill from there, but Zuko took Kana's inquiries about his living conditions quite calmly. Kana clearly had a great deal of experience – personal experience – with life on the streets, and it became obvious from the questions she was asking. This seemed to put the scarred boy at ease, somewhat. By the time Sokka asked for his second portion, Kana and Zuko were chatting frankly about how Zuko had been managing on his own for such a long time.

"Well I was couch surfing for a while," Zuko told her, his voice conveying his reluctance to delve too deeply into the subject, "but then, in Toronto I got a referral from my old school for this place, and they were trying to help me get my identification back because so much of it was lost when… but that didn't pan out. I had to leave."

Instead of prodding him for details, Kana turned her attention to Zuko's plate.

"Aren't you hungry?" she asked.

"I work a lot so I do okay for food… oh, you mean right now," Zuko had yet to touch anything in front of him. "Well, I ate a lot earlier."

"He doesn't like Chinese," Aang supplied, wanting to be included in the conversation somehow.

"No," said Zuko quickly. "It's fine. Really, I like it just fine. I eat it almost every day."

Aang remembered his glimpse of Jin's thoughts earlier that evening, and the pieces fell into place. Zuko had been working at the Chinese place – that was why he had wanted to avoid it at lunchtime. As much as he wanted to ask Zuko if it was true, he kept silent, not wanting to explain how he had reached his conclusion.

Kana had already taken Zuko's plate out from under his nose and was scraping the contents onto Sokka and Hakoda's plates.

"Why didn't you say something earlier? We'll find you something else."

"It's really okay," Zuko protested. "I'm good."

"I've got fresh tomatoes and cold cuts in the fridge, why don't I just put together a sandwich for you?"

This gave Zuko pause. "…do you have rye bread?" he asked her timidly.

She did, and it was clear that the scarred boy was extremely pleased with this development. He was too busy devouring his sandwich to even protest when Kana outlined the rules of the house, and told him that she expected him to stay. Having started late, Zuko was still eating when everyone else had finished.

Any semblance of a comfortable atmosphere in the room evaporated when Hakoda decided that he had waited long enough for his explanation. The man rose to his feet and crossed the room to where Zuko was sitting, looming over him. The yellow-eyed boy practically bristled at the police officer's proximity.

"Why don't we show your friend the spare room?" Hakoda said in a firm voice, nodding to Aang and Zuko.

"I'm coming too!" Katara announced, grabbing her fire extinguisher and scrambling to her feet.

"I'm not finished eating," Zuko ground out, giving Hakoda a dangerous look.

"You can take it with you."

Zuko stayed still long enough to let everyone know that he was only going because he felt like it, and then also stood up.

"I'm going to clear the table, then," Kana told the group. Zuko didn't seem pleased by this announcement, but kept his peace.

Aang found himself at the head of the procession. He hadn't intended to lead the group, but Hakoda and Katara had taken up the rear and were practically herding Zuko and the other boys ahead of them. The hostility, as subtle as it was, bothered Aang. Part of him was still wary of Zuko, but this only reinforced his opinion that the family should avoid provoking him. Another part of him took their distrust as a personal insult, though he knew that it was completely irrational to do so.

He was over identifying with Zuko, he realized. If he wanted to avoid any more bending episodes like the one before, he was going to have to stop doing that.

The trapdoor to the attic was closed, so Aang demonstrated how to open it using the chain hanging from the ceiling. Zuko regarded the aluminum ladder that descended from the ceiling much in the way that a man resigned to his fate might examine a hangman's noose, and then clambered up into the loft. By the time Aang reached the top of the ladder, Zuko had already propped the ceiling light open and was peeking out of it. Aang wondered if he was trying to estimate the drop down, and didn't find it unlikely.

Aang switched on the lights himself, and Zuko blinked, looking at him.

"What do you think?" Aang asked him.

"It's clean," he said, seeming to find this significant. After a pause he added, "I think I'm a bit old to have cartoon super heroes all over my bed sheets, though. I mean, _the Painted Lady?_ Really?"

"Nonsense," Sokka interrupted as his head emerged through the trapdoor, "no one is too old for cartoons, and I will never be convinced otherwise."

"I don't see these on _your_ bed." Zuko griped.

"That's because they're Katara's, not mine. She's the one who decided that she'd grown out of – hey! I'm going, I'm going!" Sokka shot into the room, followed closely by his glowering sister. Aang was relieved to see that she hadn't attempted to haul her fire extinguisher up through the ceiling with her.

"Sorry," Aang told him. "It was that or daisies. I got first dibs on all the manly spare bedding."

The friendly banter was a poor cover for the anxiety that was mounting between them.

"Nothing has been decided, yet." Zuko reminded Aang. "I never said I was going to stay."

Hakoda was the last to enter the room. He paused at the entrance and eventually crossed the room to sit down on the bed. A very tall man, this put him more on the children's level, and Aang thought this a wise decision.

And then Hakoda waited.

Zuko gave the man and his daughter much the same story that he had told Sokka and Aang, along with some of the details that Aang had learned from his first vision of the past. He gave Hakoda an extremely glossed description of the way that the other two boys had discovered him, making no mention of Aang's abilities. Aang was grateful. Earlier in the afternoon he had been bursting to tell Katara about his new found power, but after accidentally delving into her thoughts, he felt strange about it, almost guilty.

"So…" said Hakoda, incredulous. "You're telling me that you were _on fire._"

"Pretty much."

"And your real name-

"Is Zuko. Yeah."

There was a long pause.

"Wait," said Katara, "you don't really believe all of this, do you?"

She looked at everyone in the room pleadingly.

"I mean, _come on_. This is crazy."

"Usually I would agree with you," Aang told her, "but I was there."

"He was _on fire_," Sokka added helpfully.

"You _think _he was on fire, but it could be a trick."

"You caught me," said Zuko, his tone bordering on hopeful. "I'm… a professional magician… and you're also on candid camera?"

"See?" Sokka gestured at Zuko with a wide sweeping gesture. "He's completely incapable of making this stuff up. Why his pursuers haven't caught him already is beyond me."

"You're talking about the crazy scientists, yeah?" Hakoda asked.

"Dad!" Katara's voice was taking on a hysterical edge. "You can't seriously just go along with this! Aren't you worried at all?!"

"Am I worried?"

Hakoda frowned at her, his forehead creasing in deep contemplation as if this were a very complex question. "Not… really."

Aang stared at his foster father in open mouthed amazement but the man's face had gone slack. There was no telling what he was thinking.

"I don't see why I should be."

The children could only stare at him in disbelief. Zuko appeared the most shaken of all of them.

"It can't be," the scarred teenager's words came out so softly that Aang might have been imagining it.

Katara had paled.

"If this is a joke, it's not funny," she told her father. Aang had never seen Katara so upset before. She looked angry, and at the same time she appeared to be on the verge of tears. Her hands were balled into fists, and he could see them trembling. Her father stared on blankly; clearly unable to understand why she was so upset.

"Fine then!" Katara whirled on Zuko. "Prove it."

Zuko exhaled. At first, Aang thought he was doing it out of exasperation, but as the mysterious boy held his hands out in front of him, palms up, he realized that Zuko was preparing.

"Is it safe?" Aang questioned, remembering the disaster before. He was uncomfortably aware of how flammable everything in the loft was.

A tiny light flicked to life in Zuko's cupped hands, no bigger than the flame of a candle, or a pocket lighter. He lifted it, holding it out to Katara like a sacred offering.

The room was silent, as if in reverence.

Katara extended her fingers towards the flame, cautiously.

"It's warm," she whispered.

* * *

_**A/N: Oh wow, am I glad that's over! I've been writing about the same day in Aang's life for months now, and I'm almost done.**_

_**Some of you probably know exactly what's going on with Hakoda already. For those who didn't check out my original prologue the first time I posted the link, you have two choices... wait until I decide to reveal more later on in the story or follow the link here: **_

_**http /badculture. livejournal. com/ 1001.html **_

_**Take out the spaces, copy and paste, and then go. But don't forget to review!  
**_

___** I have no idea if Katara's fire extinguisher has pressure anymore, but thankfully neither does she. **_


	16. stage 14

A/N: edit sev7n has been found! Happy day!

Also, this is extremely belated, but I wanted to say thanks for 100 reviews! I'm celebrating with a double post. I'm sooooooooo happy you guys, you have no idea.

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Zuko let the flame levitating above his cupped palms flicker out, but the silence in the room stretched on. Aang's eyes darted back and forth across the room, gauging everyone's reactions. Only Hakoda was calm, though perhaps unnaturally so, not seeming to notice the worried glances that the boys were shooting at him. His gaze wandered around the room, almost as if he had become bored of the exchange before him. Aang wondered if the man was in shock.

Only Katara's attention was focused in one place: on the spot where Zuko had created the tiny fire in the air. She was clearly overwhelmed, and when she finally spoke, her voice came out much smaller than usual.

"All that stuff before, it really was because of you. The lights – the stove..."

Zuko remained silent, a morose expression on his face.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, her large blue eyes searching. Zuko looked at the floor, unable to meet her gaze.

"I don't know," he said quietly, "I don't even remember doing it."

"You don't know?" Katara sounded disappointed, and her incredulity from earlier was resurfacing. "How can you not know?"

"I'm sorry."

"Zuko," the strength was beginning to return to Katara's voice, "the gas burner on the stove _erupted_. Pots and boiling tomato sauce flew everywhere. My grandmother was in the room when it happened. Do you know how lucky it is that she wasn't burned?"

"Yes," said Zuko quietly. His hand rose to the remains of his left eye, but he caught himself before completing the motion and corrected it, using his raised hand to brush his hair out of his face instead. Katara looked away.

"That's not what I meant," she muttered.

"I should go," said Zuko.

"Where?"

It was Hakoda who spoke, and the children all turned to look at him in surprise. There was concern in his voice, much to Aang's relief. Whatever had come over the Arnaaluk's father before, it seemed to have passed, and he was once again a part of the conversation.

"Are you going to leave town?" Hakoda persisted. The disfigured teenager didn't answer immediately, deliberating over his response. He made eye contact with Aang momentarily, calculating, and then returned his worried gaze to Hakoda. Finally, he reached his conclusion.

"No," he said at last. "There's some stuff I need to take care of before I take of before I go."

Aang felt a rush of relief. Zuko was staying in town, at least for a while. He was glad, not just because he was worried about the other boy, but because it meant he would have some one to turn to if his bending became a problem again. He suspected that was the very reason that Zuko had decided to stay, and it made him extremely grateful.

"It's getting late," Hakoda cast a meaningful look at the window. "It would be a bit ridiculous to make you set up camp in the dark when we have a room set up here."

Zuko faltered, and Sokka took the opportunity to step in.

"And you've still got to work on that project with me, man. I don't want to have to go looking for you in the woods every time I want you to get something done."

Aang caught on, and joined in. "That's not due for a few weeks, right? It'll probably take a while, so it'd be easier if you stay until it's done."

"Err…" Zuko floundered around for some excuse not to stay, unaccustomed to the family's almost forcible hospitality. He cast a desperate look at Katara, eyes pleading, as if begging her to reject him.

"You aren't going to blow anything else up are you?" she asked bluntly.

"No!" Zuko squawked indignantly, betraying himself. "I mean-"

"I guess it's alright, then, since everyone else is okay with it," said Katara, crossing her arms in resignation.

Hakoda nodded in approval. "Then it's settled. You can stay with us for a few weeks, and see how you like it."

Aang remembered when he had first come to live with the Arnaaluks. Back then, he had thought that he would only be staying for a short time as well, and now his residence had been extended indefinitely. He couldn't help a victorious smile, and grinned at Zuko encouragingly.

The teenager deflated.

"Can we not mention anything about bending to any one else, though?" he said pleadingly. "I know we're going to be living together but-"

"Relax," said Sokka. "Nobody is going to tell Gran."

"She'd think we're all crazy and she'd probably make us all drink prune juice." Aang added, grimacing at the thought.

Catching Zuko's baffled expression, Katara elaborated. "Gran-gran blames all strange behaviour on constipation."

Aang bit back a laugh, watching as Zuko's discomfort escalated to whole new level. He didn't need mindreading to know that the scarred boy was wondering what he had just gotten himself into.

* * *

Much to Aang's surprise, the remainder of the evening passed uneventfully. Kana wasted no time in putting all of the children to work cleaning up the mess from Katara's fire extinguisher and the exploded ceiling lights. Zuko, clearly haggard, was given an exemption from chores that evening. The teenager only stayed up long enough for Kana to find some lotion for his cold burns, and then retreated to his new room shortly afterwards.

Aang, still charged with nervous energy, could barely believe that Zuko would turn in so early in the evening, but he knew it shouldn't have surprised him. Given the scarred teenager's lifestyle, Zuko's sleep schedule was probably dependent on the availability of natural light, anyways.

The Arnaaluk siblings spent the rest of the night in the living room, piled onto the battered couch with their foster brother. It wasn't a school night, so the three of them stayed up late with the television on, discussing what had happened.

Both of the siblings were nervous about having Zuko in the house. Sokka was primarily concerned about what would happen if one of the fugitive boy's enemies discovered that they were sheltering him, but Katara felt that it was Zuko himself who presented the biggest threat.

"It's a miracle that nobody was hurt before," she told the boys, sitting stiffly with her arms crossed. "What if he freaks out again? We have no idea what could set him off!"

"I know," Aang had to agree with her. "But I don't think that he would hurt any of us on purpose. Sometimes it's hard to…"

Sokka gave Aang a meaningful look, reminding him not to say too much.

Aang still hadn't told Katara that he was able to use bending himself, and while a part of him wanted to share the whole story with her, he was still mortified by his unexpected dip into her daydreams earlier that evening. It would be difficult to admit that he could read minds without letting her know that he had read hers, and he didn't know how to explain his abilities without giving away somebody else's secrets. The fact that she was suspicious of Zuko only provided Aang with more discouragement.

"I'm worried about dad, too," Katara said quietly, interrupting the lull in conversation that Aang had caused. Sokka nodded.

"Me too," the teenager agreed. "For a minute I thought he was going to have another episode or something."

"What do you mean?" Aang asked them. It was the first he had heard of anything like this.

Katara hugged her knees to her chest. "It was a while after mom died," she said. "Dad was out of town for a few days, but he didn't come home when he was supposed to. They found him on the side of the highway the next morning with no memory of who he was or how he got there. He mostly got his memory back after a couple of days, but it was really scary at the time."

"He never did remember what happened to the car, though," Sokka said sadly. Aang knew how much his foster brother liked machines, and guessed that the older boy had probably been rather attached to his father's old vehicle.

"I didn't know," said Aang. He was surprised that he hadn't heard about it earlier.

"We were still living in the States, then, because of mom's old job, but after the incident Gran pretty much forced dad to come home," Sokka explained. "We tried to keep it kind of quiet. A history of mental illness isn't really something you want to advertise if you make your living as police officer, you know?"

"Bumi knows, of course. He's fine with it," Katara said quickly, referring to the town people's nickname for Omashu's chief of police, Officer Bumingdale.

It was difficult to imagine Bumi criticising anyone for being mentally unstable. The chief was a character, to put it lightly, and Aang couldn't fathom how he'd managed to obtain a position of such responsibility. The last time Bumingdale had spoken to Aang, it had been to chastise him for staying sober at a school charity event.

"I understand," Aang told the siblings genuinely. He could respect the fact that Hakoda didn't want the whole town to know about his breakdown. Rumours spread quickly in a place like Omashu, and someone like Mrs. Beifong would inevitably blow the whole thing way out of proportion when they learned what happened.

The young bender understood something else as well. Earlier that evening when he had heard Hakoda's thoughts, he had felt as if the man's mind had closed itself. Now he realized that he had encountered some sort of mental block, one which was still keeping his friends' father from remembering an event in the past. Aang wasn't sure how much trust he had in his abilities, but he couldn't help feeling a bit of excitement at the prospect that maybe he could use bending to find out what had really happened.

* * *

When the two Inuit children finally put themselves to bed, Aang didn't know what to do with himself. His body was tired but his mind was still buzzing and fully alert. Eventually, he decided to get changed and get ready for bed. He knew that he would just end up staring at the ceiling, but he was already doing that on the living room couch. At least this way he would be comfortable.

He had just finished up in the bathroom and was on his way to meet his unavoidable fate when he passed by the ladder to Zuko's room, and he was suddenly struck by an intense sensation of anxiety and guilt. It wasn't as intense as any of the feelings and thoughts that he had experienced in previous fits of accidental bending, but Aang knew that he was sensing the emotions of the teenager upstairs.

Instinctively he began to climb to the attic, but froze with his foot on the bottom step when he realized how rude it would be to burst into the guest room without warning. When he thought about it, he had no way of even knowing if Zuko was awake or asleep. It was incredibly invasive, really, to go up there in the wee hours of the morning and start probing the older boy with questions about what was bothering him. What business did he have, monitoring everybody's feelings when they were supposed to be alone?

Instead of confronting Zuko, Aang forced himself to return to his room. Sokka was already fast asleep, snoring loudly, ignorant of his foster brother's entrance. In his room, Aang could no longer sense Zuko's turbulent emotions. He decided to meditate again, just to be safe, and took a seat on the edge of his mattress, folding his legs underneath him with a deep breath.

He tried to recall the peace and tranquility that he had achieved before, but he was overtired and Sokka's loud snores made it even more difficult to concentrate. After a good fifteen minutes of trying to visualize various objects around the room without looking at them, Aang finally gave up, flopping down onto the bed.

Too tired to meditate, not tired enough to sleep. The young bender's mind went in nervous circles. What if he lost control again? Zuko would certainly know if Aang was unable to stop bending, and it was bound to make him uncomfortable. It would make everyone uncomfortable.

Aang's worry doubled when he started to wonder whether or not he was really anxious or his feelings were simply a reflection of Zuko's. He could be bending right now, without knowing it.

At three thirty in the morning, he was still awake. He gave up on sleep and started wandering around the house in aimless circles. In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of water, and in the living room he watched a television program that he really had no interest in until his eyes stung so much that he couldn't look at the screen anymore. He returned to the bathroom and brushed his teeth a second time, unable to think of anything else to do with himself. It was in the bathroom that the twelve-year-old's eyes settled on the medicine cabinet.

At first, he thought that he would try to knock himself out with a bit of night time cold syrup, but when Aang started sifting through the contents of Kana's expansive first-aid kit, a box with a cloudy night sky on it caught his attention. It was marked as a sleeping aid.

Aang wondered if the Arnaaluk's would notice if any of their medication vanishing out of the cabinet. It was unlikely.

The directions on the back indicated a recommended dose of two tablets, but Aang decided to play it safe and only take one. He didn't usually have bad reactions to anything, but the pills were intended for adults, which Aang was not.

After taking the pill, Aang crept back to his room and lay down. He didn't expect it to kick in right away, but after a while he started to give up on falling asleep, and allowed himself a bit of self pity.

He missed Gyatso. When he had been very young, the old man had taken Aang on a long drives in the car whenever he couldn't fall asleep. Gyatso was usually very conscious about protecting the environment, but Aang found nothing more soothing than the warmth and vibrations of a vehicle in motion. They had done it many times when Aang had been in the process of adjusting to life with his new guardian, when the pain of losing his parents had been the most acute. These thoughts led Aang to wonder where his old guardian was and what he was doing. He was still thinking about it when the sleeping pill he had taken started to work its magic.

Aang didn't notice falling asleep. His dreams were dizzy and turbulent. In one of them, he was stretching himself out as far out as he could go, reaching for something far away. Something was out there, warm and familiar. Disoriented, Aang extended himself towards it, desperately searching for something to anchor himself with.

He missed.

His grasp settled around something cold and unpleasant.

He knew immediately that he had made a terrible mistake, but he also felt certain that the thing he was searching for was nearby. He was stretched so thin that if he let go, he would certainly snap back to where he was, like a broken rubber band, so he held fast.

* * *

_Almost six hundred kilometres away, Azula tore her attention away from her glossy red nail polish and wondered, for the briefest of moments, if she had sensed someone bending._

* * *

(A/N: Let this be a lesson to you, kiddies. Don't do drugs.)


	17. Interlude II: Azula

(A/N): Thanks, RunningStorm!

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the science fiction works of Stephen King.**

**Azula**

The interior of the van was cramped, and much too warm. Azula didn't like what the humidity was doing to her hair. The only thing that kept her from running the van's air conditioner was the knowledge that her bulky, heavily tattooed escort, Manfred, would only subject her to this discomfort in order to do his job as efficiently as possible. She appreciated that about him.

The young girl had always imagined that Canada would be colder. The night air had some bite to it now that autumn had set in, but it lacked the intensity that she had anticipated. The whole country had been a disappointment to her. Not that her expectations had been very high to begin with. She would never have agreed to come here in the first place if she hadn't had reason to suspect her brother was hiding somewhere north of the border. Her benefactor couldn't offer her anything that was worth this amount of drudgery.

A skinny old man sagged in front of her. His face was so drained of colour that it practically matched his bushy white moustache, and his breath came in pathetic, ragged gasps. He cradled one of his hands close to his chest, and it was evident that most of the fingers were broken.

As feeble as he looked, the old man was proving to be more difficult than she had anticipated. She could tell that he was somehow emotionally invested in the information that he was keeping from her; otherwise, Manfred would have succeeded in extracting it from him hours ago.

The more Azula brooded over her situation the more irritated she became. Electricity sizzled inside the pit of her stomach. She wanted to sink her nails into the man in front of her and release all of that pent up energy right into his central nervous system, but on the outside she maintained her composure. No one could live through something like that, let alone this feeble creature. It was a wonder he hadn't had a heart attack and died already.

She turned to Manfred with an exaggerated sigh. "I'm getting bored," she told him. "Why don't you start on the other hand?"

Manfred had a thing about hands – probably because he had lost his own, along with one of his legs. Azula sometimes forgot this, because he was never without gloves and his special talents allowed him to manage so well without them. Only the occasional squeak of hinges betrayed the fact that his right arm and leg had been replaced by metal prosthetics, which he manipulated using sheer force of will.

Manfred said nothing. (He never did. That was why Azula's presence was required. It was her job to ask the questions.) The large, muscled man merely bowed his head and closed his eyes in concentration. He always had the appearance of a Cyclops when he did this, as he had a third eye inked onto his forehead. Azula secretly thought that his tattoo was kind of lame, but she knew better than to risk damaging her escort's sense of pride by saying anything.

The sensation of something in the air, an invisible force, _bending_ around her and a sickening crunching noise behind him alerted Azula to the fact that her escort had obliged her request. She turned back to her prisoner.

"Let's try something easier this time," she said, patting the trembling old man's shaven head affectionately. "What's your name?"

She already knew the old man's name, and she was certain that he knew she knew. There was really nothing to prevent him from cooperating with her, except, perhaps for his principals.

"Gyatso. Cheng Gyatso."

She smirked. So much for principals.

"You're not speaking American," Azula complained, her voice laden with melodrama. "Say it properly."

She didn't need to tell Manfred what to do. One of Gyatso's legs convulsed violently. It appeared to be moving of its own volition, but Azula could sense her partner at work.

"Gyatso Cheng!"

"See? That wasn't so hard now was it?" Azula rubbed the old man's head again, as if he was the child and she the elder. "I'm a bit of a stickler for fine details like that. I don't like it when people don't tell me _exactly_ what I want to hear. Now, why don't you tell me a bit more about the White Lotus Adoption Agency?"

The old man remained silent, a bleak expression on his face. Azula could sense Manfred readying behind her.

"Stop!" She exclaimed suddenly, surprising herself.

Manfred stopped what he was doing. He always complied with Azula's wishes.

Azula herself had no idea what she was doing. She found herself reaching out to grasp the old man by the shoulders, her red finger nails burrowing into the fabric of his shirt.

"Gyatso?" She found herself saying, "Gyatso is that you?"

She couldn't remember the last time that she had cried, but now tears welled up in her eyes, foreign and unwelcome.

"What's happening?" She demanded; a display of weakness that she would never have allowed, under normal circumstances. "What have they done to you?"

She sobbed, unable to stop herself and slid down to her knees, gripping her prisoner as if she was afraid that he would slip away from her.

"You disappeared!" She wailed, childishly. "I was waiting and waiting and no one could tell me what was going on!"

Gyatso looked at her, and she could see his defences shatter as his expression gave way to recognition.

"Aang?" He gasped. "Aang, no! Whatever you're doing, you have to stop."

Azula's tears ceased abruptly, and her mind cleared. She clambered to her feet. Although she was quite perturbed by what had happened, she didn't let it show on her face.

"Well," she said. "That was unexpected."

With a confident smile, the young girl wiped her eyes with the back of her wrist, careful not to smear any of her makeup on the cuff of her immaculate white blouse.

"It seems I've been asking the wrong questions," she confessed. "I think you and I need to have a talk about this _Aang_ of yours, don't you agree?"

* * *

_(A/N): Writing Azula is HARD. I tried ok?! _

_Oh, and Azula/Combustion Man is totally new OTP. (I jest, of course.)  
_


	18. Stage 15

_(A/N: Many thanks to _sev7n, _as usual, for putting up with me and being the best beta ever.__)_

**Firestarter**

**Inspired by the novel by Stephen King.**

**Aang**

Aang fell.

Shocked, he threw out his arms and legs, reflexively bracing for impact… only to encounter a soft padding. He opened his eyes to blue linen, and realized that he was face down on his own bed, safely wrapped up in the covers. The mattress swayed gently underneath him, set in motion by Aang's sudden, violent movements. If not for the sound of his foster brother snoring on the other side of the room, Aang might have honestly believed that he had just dropped down from the ceiling.

Even though the danger had passed, Aang's body was still wound tight and his heart still beat furiously in his chest. He couldn't remember much of his dream, but he had an unshakable feeling that Gyatso was in immediate danger. A warm wetness on his cheeks alerted the young boy to the fact that he had been crying in his sleep.

Aang mopped his face, disappointed in himself, and then hurried to the bathroom to douse his skin with cold water. He didn't want Sokka to see him.

He remembered taking the sleeping pills that he had pilfered from the Arnaaluk's medicine cabinet, and wondered if he was having some sort of emotion reaction to them. When Katara had been given anesthetics once at the dentist, she had cried for hours afterwards. _Never again_, he decided. He didn't think that he had taken enough medication to blame the pills for his current state, but he felt wretched, and he wasn't eager to try anything similar again. He didn't feel rested at all, and his stomach felt the same way it did after a whole day of riding roller coasters.

Aang thought about going back to bed, but, after some contemplation, decided against it. It was light outside and Katara would be up soon. It was a rare treat to shower before she had a chance to use up all of the hot water, and with a new house guest staying with them Aang knew that he wasn't likely to have another such opportunity for some time.

By the time he finished, the unpleasant memory of his dream had mostly faded. These mornings weren't that unusual for the young boy; he often had nightmares revolving around his missing guardian. Sokka had noticed, on a few occasions, but Aang preferred not to burden the family with his problems. He appreciated their attempts to be reassuring, but sometimes they just left him feeling patronized.

His stomach had mostly settled, so the young boy decided to find something to eat. He started towards the Arnaaluk's kitchen, but halfway there he discovered that his path had been blocked. Zuko sat at the base of the stairs, lacing up his old sneakers.

Aang felt a surge of annoyance.

"You're leaving without saying anything?" he demanded.

Zuko jumped and turned around, spotting Aang on the landing above.

"I left a note," he said defensively, "and I was going to come back."

"Oh," Aang felt foolish for his outburst, and for the first time, he noticed Zuko's clothing. The older boy was wearing a red, polyester shirt with a small, golden dragon stitched over his heart, and a pair of black slacks. Aang realized that Jin had been wearing the same uniform the night before, when she had stopped by with their order of take-out. "Isn't it a bit early for Chinese food?"

"I've got some stuff to take care of," Zuko said vaguely.

Aang went the rest of the way downstairs, and checked the clock in the front hallway. It was still only nine o'clock.

"Have you had breakfast?"

Zuko shook his head.

"I was going to pick something up on the way. I didn't want to go through the cupboards."

Aang understood. It had taken him a long time to feel comfortable in the Arnaaluk's household even though they had done their best to reassure him that he could help himself to whatever he liked.

"It's okay," he told Zuko, "they're really cool about that kind of stuff. I'm going to make myself some jam and toast, do you want some?"

Zuko mumbled something, and began unlacing his shoes. Aang figured that the other boy had accepted his offer, and went ahead into the kitchen, rooting through the cupboards for the necessary supplies to put together a meal for both of them. After he had started the toaster, he noticed the note that Zuko had left on the counter.

_Gone to work, _the first line read. The second said, _Sokka: Will pick up poster board + white glue for project._

Even though Aang hadn't expected the teenager to renege on his promises, he found himself grinning. Zuko was really going to live with them.

The young bender was naïve enough to look forward to it.

**oOo**

Over the course of the next month, the family came to regard Zuko as an ordinary, if almost invisible member of the household. He went to his part-time job almost every day, so he was seldom present during meals or any of the Arnaaluk's other everyday activities. Even so, they could find little to fault him for. He was quiet, tidy, and careful to smoke only outdoors. No one commented on his bad habit, but a covered ashtray appeared on the wicker patio table outside within a few days of the scarred boy's arrival. After that silent reprimand, Zuko was also careful not leave his discarded cigarettes scattered around the back porch.

Zuko, for his part, kept mostly to himself, but seemed to enjoy the conveniences of living in a proper house. He rarely expressed these feelings, but a slight tug at his lips betrayed his satisfaction each time he emerged from a long shower, clean and fresh faced, or made use of Kana's ironing board to smooth the wrinkles out of his uniform for work. The teenager had never struck anyone as being unhygienic, but there was a noticeable improvement in his appearance after he had settled in with the family.

Gran Gran took quite a shine to her new guest, though Zuko seemed dismayed by her attention. A few weeks into the older boy's stay, Aang witnessed Zuko attempting to return several sets of clothing that had mysteriously appeared on the foot of his bed, only to be embarrassed into silence by the elderly woman's stern glare.

The teenager was particularly awkward in Hakoda's presence, but sometimes Aang got the feeling that Zuko was curious about him. Every once in a while the bender would probe the officer for details about his past. He asked if Hakoda had ever lived outside of Omashu, and how long he had been an officer. Mundane things, but Aang had a feeling that there was intent behind his questions. Hakoda didn't seem to suspect anything – as a matter of fact, he didn't seem to take much interest in the young man's presence at all.

With Sokka, Zuko seemed to enjoy a rather short-spoken but pleasant companionship. The two of them sometimes did their homework together, but the bender often became volatile when frustrated by a concept he didn't understand. Mostly, they stuck to eating snacks and watching television when they were in each other's company. As far as Aang knew, they rarely interacted at school, and Zuko declined all of the other teenager's attempts to include him in his social activities.

"I don't drink, so parties are pretty pointless for me," he told Sokka once. "Besides, I can't stand taking care of people when they're tanked."

"You don't drink?" Sokka had been flabbergasted. Having spent most of his youth in a small town where distractions were few in number, he had spent most of his high school years doing little else. "How come? I mean, you smoke like a chimney. You don't really seem like the 'straight edge' type."

"I don't like the idea of losing control of my own mind." Zuko had answered. After some consideration he added, "I mean, I might blow someone to _smithereens_."

Zuko lisped quite badly when he said the word 'smithereens', but Sokka hadn't attempted to make a joke about it. After that, he never pressured Zuko to spend time with any of his friends.

Aang didn't get to spend much time with Zuko, but the teenager did make an effort to teach the younger boy what he knew about bending, and practice meditating with him. When Aang suggested they practice bending, however, Zuko blatantly refused.

"You should never, ever bend if you can help it," Zuko advised him. "You could end up hurting yourself, and other benders will be able to tell what you're doing."

"Others?" Aang had asked him, curiously. "Are there many others out there?"

"Some." Zuko stated tersely. "You don't want to meet them."

He wouldn't say anything else.

Despite all of his progress, however, Zuko's integration into the home was hardly seamless. This was mainly because Katara had remained hostile and suspicious towards him since their first meeting. Although she usually held her tongue in Aang's presence, her intense dislike of the other boy was obvious, and more than once a bitter, sarcastic remark would find its way out of her mouth. Several times, the two teenagers had ended up screaming at each other. On one occasion, Zuko had been so furious that he had stormed out of the building, and did not reappear for days.

Rather than acclimating to each other, Zuko and Katara seemed to get angrier and angrier as the weeks progressed. They both made an effort to contain themselves in front of Aang, but more often than not their arguments spilled out into the open.

Unfortunately, one of these incidents occurred when company was visiting.

**oOo**

Toph Bei Fong had invited herself over one evening, as she often did, because there was a wrestling match airing on television that her parents had forbidden her from watching. By that time Aang's schoolmate had become well aware that Zuko spent a lot of time over at the Arnaaluk's, although she was under the impression that he was simply a frequent visitor. Toph's parents would undoubtedly be furious if they discovered that their daughter was anywhere near that "deviant looking young man", so Aang knew that she wouldn't spread any rumours about Zuko's living arrangements.

Although the young lady insisted that they set the television to nearly full volume, the sounds of the match on screen weren't enough to mask Zuko and Katara's voices reverberating throughout the house.

"Sokka should really start hanging out at Zuko's place," she commented, irritated at having her program interrupted. "Katara doesn't like him much, does she?"

Aang shook his head. "Not really. Hang on. I'll go tell them to stop."

Aang was usually good at diffusing the two feuding teenagers, but when he exited the living room and drew closer to the source of the noise, he began to lose confidence. They weren't on the second floor, as he had originally surmised, but all the way up in Zuko's loft.

"How dare you say that!" Katara's voice had taken on a hysterical note, "Those are my mother's things, you jerk!"

"Well I didn't know that!" Zuko shot back at equal volume. "If you didn't want me to see that stuff you shouldn't be keeping it all in my bedroom!"

Aang hesitated at the bottom of the ladder into the loft, wondering if he should interfere. He could see Katara above him from where he was, gripping something tightly to her chest, but her back was turned, and Zuko was somewhere out of sight. Whatever they were fighting about, it seemed worse than usual.

"It is not _your _room!" Katara yelled furiously. "It's _my_ attic! What _my _family keeps up here is none of your business!"

"What is your problem?!" the teenager bellowed. "Get out!"

Aang heard Katara gasp, and an orange glow lit up the room above. Katara stepped back, but the trapdoor was behind her. Aang tried to shout out a warning, but he was too late, and the words stuck in his throat at the sight of Katara's foot dipping down into empty space. The girl flailed her free arm in a futile attempt to regain her balance, and for one horrible moment Aang was sure that she would fall. He hovered at the base of the ladder, unsure of what to do. Katara was taller than him, and he didn't know if he would be capable of breaking her fall.

He was saved from finding out when Zuko rushed into view, grasping Katara's outstretched arm by the elbow and yanking her upright. For a moment the girl seemed too surprised to react, but when he didn't release his hold on her she shook him off.

"I-" he started.

"Don't touch me," she said. This time her voice was very quiet. "I'm leaving."

Aang moved out of the way when she backed down the ladder, and when she reached the bottom he could see that she had tears in her eyes, and she was clutching a bundle of fabric to her chest with one hand. Without giving Aang a second look, the young woman charged into her bedroom and slammed her door shut behind her.

Zuko was staring down the ladder with an ashen face, but his expression was replaced by anger when he spotted Aang staring.

"What do you two think you're looking at?" he barked.

Aang looked around, realized that Toph was standing behind him, one eyebrow raised in question. When he turned back to the trapdoor, Zuko had disappeared.

"That, uh, wasn't what it looked like," Aang told Toph quickly, hoping that she hadn't been able to see any fire from where she was standing.

Toph snorted. "Sure, Twinkle toes," she told him, "whatever you say."

Aang had made it painfully obvious that he was hiding something, and he could tell that he had offended his friend by keeping secrets from her. He tried to retract his statement.

"That's not what I, uh, what I mean is, it's not really my - ow!"

Toph interrupted his rambling with a solid punch to the shoulder.

"I said 'whatever', didn't I?" she said sharply, turning her back on him, "I don't even wanna know. Now hurry up or we'll miss the rest of the match!"

Aang cast one last glance over his shoulder at Katara's closed door, and then hurried down the stairs after his laconic friend.

"Thanks," he told Toph, drawing up behind her.

Toph just turned around punched him again.

**oOo**

_(A/N: _

_1. For the record, Aang really was just dreaming about the falling thing. He was not flying over his bed or anything. I refuse to poach my clichés from Sabrina the Teenage Witch. I would say I'm too cool to steal ideas from Smallville too, but there's a pretty good chance that I've done that by accident at some point already._

_2. Aang doesn't know what he's talking about when he blames his reaction on the sleeping pills. He's not stupid, he's just innocent that way._

_Thanks to everyone who reviewed, as well as those who have been quietly adding me to their alerts and favs. There's nothing more rewarding than knowing that you guys are interested!_

_Edit: So apparently no longer believes in page breaks. you gets o's instead.  
_


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